Kindness is Reciprocal
by Eurazba
Summary: Tired of taking care of his crumbling heart, Steve casts it away so he doesn't have to feel anything anymore, and who is to find his abandoned heart, but none other than Toby Domzalski. Inspired by In a Heartbeat
1. Embraceless Cold

Kindness is Reciprocal

By: Eurazba

Chapter 1: Embraceless Cold

Hearts were not meant to be thrown.

Of course they also weren't meant to be broken over and over again by some shit for nothing dad that kept coming and going and going and …hurting.

The yelling, the hitting, and the _leaving_, all of it hurt, all of it kept breaking Steve's stupid fragile little heart. He was better off without the damn thing and all of its overly sensitive little feelings. He didn't want to feel any of this.

His father was gone, forever now.

Steve knew, he had heard the yelling between his parents, he knew all about the restraining order.

But it didn't matter to him, he didn't care about it, his stupid overly sensitive heart did, so he was getting rid of it. It was the convenient thing to do, no more trying to patch it up, no more trying to keep it together, no more feeling.

He pulled it out from where it had been shoved in his bag previous and stared at it. It was cold, riddled in fractures, scars, and bruises from the most recent hit that it had taken, and desperately held together with some patches and duct tape. What a sorry thing it was, he'd be glad to get rid of it.

With one last breath to calm himself, sure, he was final on getting rid of his heart, but he still couldn't stop that scared feeling at not having it, probably the heart's last desperate attempt to not be abandoned. Steve took position and chucked the heart as hard as he could over the bridge's edge. Through barely damp eyes he watched it soared through the sky, a wonderful, relaxing numbness filling him as it went further and further. A good distance away it finally landed, causing a sharp pain in his chest before it was quickly replaced by numbness.

It was gone.

It was _gone_.

There was no relief, no anger, no happiness or fear, just a numb feeling.

Good.

Good.

That's exactly what he wanted.

He let out one last sigh and turned away from the heart. This was the last time he was going to see it, he thought as he grabbed the helmet of his vespa, that much he was sure of.

The night was cold but he was free.

* * *

Of all the days of the week to be late to school, Monday always feels like the worst one to be late on. There's no excuse for staying up late for homework and sleeping in, you had the weekend to do it, there was no proper excuse for ill preparedness.

Except if you were Jim, and you felt it necessary to cook elaborate lunches almost every morning.

Don't get him wrong, Toby _loved _the lunches Jim prepared for him, they were delicacies that had restaurant quality mixed perfectly with homemade love in every meal, and they were always so fresh.

Which of course was _why_ they were so late in the mornings.

This was one such morning, and Jim, in all of his infinite wisdom, dragged them down to the canals in some vain attempt to save them five minutes. Toby didn't like the canals, their slopes were dangerous, especially on their bikes, and they were filled with all sorts of junk and debris, you never knew when you'd crash or trip over something and land on some jagged edge. Jim trailed easily ahead and flew over the canal's edge before sailing down it's sloped walls in a way that filled Toby with worry. "Take a little risk," Jim would always suggest with his busted-up knees from falling countless times in his "little" risks, Toby liked his knees just the way they were thank you very much.

He also liked his face just the way it was, he thought with panic as he suddenly went zipping uncontrollably down the canal's slope. Jim watched silently at the base of the canal as Toby screamed the whole way. His bike hit the flat base of the canal with a harsh thump and yet his wheels kept rolling, he only reached the halfway point of the canal before his bike finally hit some rubble too hard and sent him flying over the handles. Jim yelled for Toby as he rolled across the ground a fair distance in front of his knocked over bike.

He watched the sky spin for a moment as a wave of hurt covered his body, Jim popped into his view just as things barely settled.

"Holy shit Tobes! Are you okay?" Jim said worriedly as he looked over Toby.

"I hate the canals," Toby grumbled, he held up his hand for Jim to help him up.

Everything hurt as he was pulled up, he let go of Jim's hand once he was sitting upright, using his other hand to hold his head and stop the spinning.

"Are you okay?" Jim repeated, crouching down next to Toby.

"Yeah, yeah," He mumbled with a wave of his free hand, the other rubbing his eyes before he finally opened them to see a clearer Jim next to him, "I'm fine, just a little dizzy."

He turned to the rubble he hit, some miscellaneous k-spar intermixed with some rubbish that must have blown its way there, his bike lay next to it looking okay but-

"…Is that a heart?" Toby asked, pointing to a different cluster of rubble a bit further away.

"What?" Jim turned his head in the direction Toby was pointing.

Toby found himself suddenly able to ignore his pain as he focused on the rubble in the distance. He stood up despite Jim's worried buzzing around him and made a beeline for what he was certain was a heart.

It was a heart, partially covered by some plastic wrapper and looking to be bandaged poorly by some other means, but it was a heart, just here, all alone in the canals.

_Abandoned_.

Toby had seen abandoned hearts before, ones that his Nana found and took in, the same horrible scars and cracks and bruises on them as this heart that he approached now. He had never found an abandoned heart on his own though. He bent over and brushed away the wrapper, carefully picking the heart up from the ground, it was beating slow and steady, surprisingly even, but Toby couldn't get over how cold it was. Most hearts were warm, like his own, though he never knew how warm abandoned hearts felt, too afraid to touch the ones his Nana brought in before for fear of hurting them more. This heart was cold, so very cold, he was surprised it was even alive, though emotional hearts did function differently than the rest of the human body.

"What is it?" Jim asked, poking his head around Toby, his eyes widened when he saw it.

"An abandoned heart."

Jim let out a little "oh" before looking wildly around for any signs of people, Toby knew there were none, the owner was long gone.

"Are you going to take it to your Nana?" Jim asked.

"Yeah, here, take it for a moment," Toby handed the heart to Jim, who took it nervously, having even less experience with an abandoned heart than Toby, he pulled off his sweater vest and took the heart from Jim, gently wrapping it in his vest. They couldn't take it to his Nana now, not if they didn't want to be late-

The bell rang out just then, reminding both why they had taken the canals in the first place.

"Final bell!" Jim cried out as they ran over to their bikes.

"We're so late our kids are gonna have detention!" Toby cried out as he pulled off his backpack and placed the wrapped-up heart inside as quickly and as gently as he could before climbing back onto his own bike and rushing to school.

* * *

"There are two different hearts in the human body," Coach Lawrence lectured at the front of the classroom, half looking at the health book in his hand and half looking over the class, the projector showed a model with two different labelled hearts on the screen behind him, "A physical heart and an emotional heart."

Coach pointed to each of the models as he mentioned them, one red, looking as what one could only be described as a blob with odd tubes coming off of it, the other a pinker tone, with a symmetrical shape. There were little scars and things on the model of the emotional heart with lines coming off it and labelling what each of the kind of scars and things meant, the model still looked better than Steve's sorry state of a heart.

"As most of you know, the emotional heart is connected to a person's emotions."

Steve muttered a sarcastic "Wow, really?" under his breath, a few other students around him laughed under their breath.

"How people react to situations can be reflected in their hearts," Coach continued on, likely having not heard his comment from the back of the room. Normally, Steve sat at the front of Coach's class to show that he had his best attention, but today he found that he really didn't care, likely an effect of tossing out his heart.

"Injuries can form from sources of emotional trauma as well as the heart being physically hurt, but only emotional scars will remain after healing."

_Given that the heart ever actually has time to heal before it's hurt again, _Steve thought. He let his mind wander as Coach explained that the emotional heart was the only piece of the body that could be removed and reinserted, he knew most of this from classes when he was younger, and more importantly, he didn't care. He didn't want to learn all about the emotional heart, he has gotten rid of his, he didn't care anymore.

He didn't care about anything anymore, he promised, despite the weird feeling that had been in his chest since earlier that morning just before classes began. It was… a vaguely warm feeling, not a nice one, but not a horrible one, just warm. It was an odd contrast the numbness he had felt throughout most of the weekend once he had tossed his heart, it fluctuated through the morning as he went to his classes. That wasn't supposed to happen when he abandoned his heart, was it? He glanced at Coach again as the man transitioned into talking about the physical heart and its importance to the cardiovascular system. It probably wasn't best to interrupt the class with a question as uncomfortable as what happened to an abandoned heart, he certainly didn't need anyone attempting to pry into his personal life. With a sigh he let his eyes drift again, sweeping over the class before landing and locking on Domzalski…

Again…

Steve didn't know _what_ it was but he was having trouble _not_ staring at Domzalski today. He kept glancing away from his computer screen during History to stare at Domzalski two seats away, and now he couldn't help but stare at his back from several seats away. Steve didn't know what it was but he felt this odd… draw to Domzalski when he was nearby. What this his subconscious' way of telling him that he needed to go after Domzalski today? He wasn't sure.

Domzalski adjusted in his seat to give a look to Lake next to him, Steve wasn't able to give too much thought into trying to read him as he saw the thing he had been most curious about before in their history class. For some reason, Domzalski wasn't wearing the same read sweater vest he always had, instead it was crumpled up and on top of his desk. No, not crumpled, it was wrapped around something. Of what, though, Steve wasn't sure, the way Domzalski had one hand wrapped protectively around the sweater while the other worked suggested it was something valuable. Why anyone would bring valuables to school was beyond him, and more so he shouldn't really care… and he didn't.

He just couldn't stop staring at it, he couldn't stop staring at Domzalski.

He didn't like it and tried to focus back on class, they only had a few more minutes left before lunch, right?

"The two hearts are relatively the same size and both are known to "beat"," Coach bounced his fingers around the word, "Which is the main reason they have the same name, making it difficult for everybody," There were a couple of snickers from coach's offhand comment, "Beating is almost always synchronized between both hearts, even though the emotional heart doesn't have the important job of pumping blood like the physical one does. Any questions?"

There were none, Coach concluded the lesson and snapped the book shut with a loud clap, other students who had grown bored by the lesson suddenly jumped with the noise. Coach passed out little piles of worksheets to students in the front row of classes and haphazardly explained the homework as they were passed back to everyone else. The bell rang as Steve got the last worksheet, a blank model of the emotional heart model stared back at him, he shoved it into his folder as quickly as possible and made a beeline for the door.

He was tired of thinking about hearts.

* * *

Steve couldn't seem to catch a break, almost half of lunch with the team had been spent talking about hearts. People shared odd stories, _so_-_and_-_so_ show their heart to _someone_, in _blah-blah-blah _language the emotional heart was called _this _while the physical heart was called _that, _did you know that in _he-didn't-care country_, people show off their hearts freely? How odd.

He didn't want to think about hearts but the more people talked about them the longer they stayed on his mind, particularly his question about abandoned hearts, his weird up and down feeling still hadn't gone away throughout lunch.

"What happens to an abandoned heart?" He asked, suddenly calling the attention to his teammates around him, others at a further end of the table continued talking. Fuck, he didn't mean to say that out loud.

There was a brief uncomfortable silence, this topic wasn't a popular one to discuss, before Logan finally spoke up from next to Steve.

"My grandma abandoned her heart after my grandpa died," Logan said as he took a bite of his lunch, several eyebrows shot up as they looked at him, "The doctor said she would do fine without it, people can live without their emotional hearts, but she ended up dying from grief about a year later."

They all shared nervous looks, Steve almost choked on his lunch as he gave Logan a disturbed look of his own. He just shrugged in a way that said, "you asked". The thought of death and even the possibility of him dying laid a heavy feeling deep in Steve's stomach.

"My uncle abandoned his heart when got addicted to heroin," Seamus spoke up from the uncomfortable silence, they all stared at him, surprised by the information and curious as to what else he might say, "Turns out, some old lady found his heart and started taking care of it."

Everyone shared looks before staring back at Seamus.

"You mean someone just found an abandoned heart, didn't know who it belonged to, and just kept it?" Someone asked, Seamus nodded.

"She called herself something like a "heart smith"," Seamus explained, he frowned and shook his head though, "She didn't keep it though," he put down his fork and gestured with his hands, "So, like, she took the heart in, cleaned up the wounds, and started caring for it, you know like keeping it with her and giving it love and stuff," they all half-nod as Seamus continued his explanation, "Eventually, my uncle starts getting better, he came back and connected my grandparents again, even got out of his heroin addiction after some time. All 'cause some lady decided to take care of his heart. So, he goes looking for his heart and all that, finds this lady, apparently she and a bunch of other people find and take care of abandoned hearts."

"That sounds fake," someone said, and Steve agreed.

"No, no man, she called herself a "heart smith", you can look it up," Seamus insisted, "There's a bunch of forums of people sharing their stories about meeting hearth smiths and getting their abandoned hearts back after they've healed."

They all shared odd looks, some still unsure, one offhand comment "Well at least someone's looking out for them,", others pulling out their phones to check the legitimacy of Seamus' claims. Steve couldn't help but frown. So that must have been what happened, some "heart smith" or whatever found his shit-for-nothing heart. Well sucked for them, because he was _not_ going to take his heart back, he wasn't even going to look for them, they could keep it for all he cared.

* * *

"Nana? I'm home!" Toby announced as he came in from the backdoor, he took off his backpack and pulled out the heart from where it was during the bike ride, finally taking a moment to check on it after a long day of keeping it hidden. It looked just as bad as before, he touched his thumb to the heart's surface, it was still cold.

There was no response, but he could hear the TV from the living room. He made his way from the kitchen to the dining room, placing his bag by his seat at the table, and through the swinging door separating the dining room from the hallway still carrying the heart carefully in his hands.

He called for his Nana again.

"Over here Toby-pie!" She called from the living room over the sound of the TV.

He rounded the corner and tapped her shoulder to get her attention, she turned down the tv and looked to him. He didn't really know what to say, so he just held up the heart as if it was a meager offering, she sat up and took it from him with her own feather light touch.

"I found it by the canals this morning," he explained sheepishly as his Nana turned off the TV, "I couldn't run back home to give it to you then or else I would have been late," though he and Jim were late to school regardless.

"It's okay, you did the right thing," she reassured, getting up from her seat with a groan, she pointed to the closet, "Grab my magnifiers and my mending kit."

Toby nodded and shuffled over to the hall closet as she made her way to the dining room, grabbing the plastic sewing box that acted as her mending kit by the handle and her magnifiers just above them. They were technically jeweler's glasses, but his Nana used the strong magnification of the glasses to meticulously care for the abandoned hearts that she mended, they helped her find every little cut and fracture. She had placed the heart and his vest on the dining room table and was washing her hands as he entered the room. He plopped the kit on the table and her magnifiers right next to the heart before going to wash his hands too, he likely wasn't going to touch the heart himself since he didn't have any experience mending hearts, but it was a good precaution.

"If you could bring me a couple of clean hand towels and a bowl of warm water, please, that would be great," she asked, making her way back to the dining room, he nodded, "Make sure it's not too hot."

She popped open her mending kit with ease, letting the multi-leveled shelves expand as she took off her glasses and replaced them with her magnifiers, snapping down the lenses and picking up the heart once again to look over it. He grabbed two clean hand towels from the drawer filled with them, and found a bowl big enough for the heart, taking it to the sink for water.

"You said you found this by the canals, dear?" His Nana asked as he turned on the water and tested it.

"Yes, a bit off from the bridge near our house," he tested the water again, a bit warmer.

She hummed and started mumbling things about the heart, "Poor thing", "It's so cold", "Duct tape, goodness". The water reached a comfortable temperature and he filled the bowl.

"They seem to be about your age," his Nana said as he placed the towels and bowl on the table next to her kit.

He was surprised by that, his age? Where there really people his age who were already abandoning their hearts? He stared at the heart as he sat down, what horrible thing could have possibly happened to this person to make them come to such a conclusion?

He rested his hands against the table and felt the same gentle _thump, thump, thump_ from the heart that he had felt all day through his sweater vest as his Nana pulled a few choice items from her mending kit. The beating had stayed consistent from the heart for most of the day with slight fluctuations throughout the day, it was a bit fast now, but still consistent. The sound of tape brought him to look at the heart again, his Nana was slowly, carefully, pulling the duct tape off the heart. It looked painful, pulling off the duct tape, and the heart beat a little faster in retaliation.

"Never use duct tape to mend an injured heart," she huffed out, finally pulling the last corner off and setting it aside, "Only medical tape."

"Of course," he nodded, watching as she gently unraveled the messy bandages, more scars were revealed underneath, some old, but others fresh.

She pulled the bowl of water closer and dipped one of her fingers in to test the temperature, she smiled in a reassuring way and grabbed one of the hand towels, "Perfect."

Toby wasn't aware of how dirty the heart was until he watched his Nana wash away the grime, she pointed out scars and injuries as they became easier to see.

"These are from familial relations," she explained, tapping various marks and gives some specification to them. Toby listened attentively, his Nana had never gone this in-depth with him in regards to the hearts she mended, maybe she saw that he was old enough now. She sighed, "There's signs of abuse here."

He widened his eyes, but nodded, it made more sense now, why someone his age would abandon their heart. It was a terrifying revelation, but one that existed.

She dried the heart with the other hand towel once it was clean, it only barely looked better. He could feel the heart continue to beat fast as she traced a finger against the biggest fracture, starting from the left side and spindling diagonally across the heart, it was jagged and deep, any deeper and it might actually have broken the heart in half.

"This one's just like Jim's," she said softly, Toby's eyes widened at his Nana's words, not because he thought it was wrong, but because he knew she was right, "It's more fragmented though, it cracked in increments instead of all at once."

"A parent leaving," he whispered, she nodded.

He remembered how Jim's heart was after his father left, the horrible deep scar, and how quiet and dejected Jim was. Supposedly Dr. Lake had a similar scar on her own heart, but different for being a romantic partner as opposed to a parent, Toby had never seen it, though, as they weren't that close. His Nana had though, when she helped repair Jim and Dr. Lake's hearts, something Dr. Lake had been too distraught at the time to manage herself.

Toby had only seen Jim's heart a couple times after the first, when they were still young enough to not fully understand the cultural significance of only showing your heart to specific loved ones. His heart had healed normally, and now only carried an old scar.

"The poor dear," his Nana mumbled, pulling Toby from his thoughts. She set the heart down on the cleaner towel and grabbed the butterfly bandages and other small bandages she had set out.

Toby watched her closely and quietly, mentally taking note of how she worked with the heart for possible future reference, he wasn't sure if he would ever actually have to use the information, but he liked the possibility of following in his Nana's footsteps for heart smithing. She ignored the older scars and focused on the smaller cuts first. Careful around the bruises, she nicely put the bandages on to help the cuts hold together and heal. It looked better, once she was done, but only barely, the huge fracture still drew far too much attention. She was careful as she handled that part of the heart, making sure everything was aligned and that there were no loose fragments to get caught in the wrong place when she wrapped it.

"Open this, dear," she said, handing Toby a single-packaged gauze pad as she grabbed some wrap bandages and gently opened the package for the roll.

"The heart's not bloody though," he said, still opening the package as she asked. Emotional hearts couldn't get bloody, there was no need for gauze, and luckily no worry for infection either.

"It helps hold things in place and prevent rubbing," she answered, taking the gauze pad when he handed it to her and lining it up over the heart's fracture.

Again, he could barely feel the heart beat a little faster through the table before his Nana picked it up and began to gently, but firmly, wrap the heart. Well over half the roll was gone one she determined that the heart was properly wrapped, it was almost completely covered, only the rounded humps and the point at the bottom stuck out from the white, it seemed almost cozy. She snipped the end and taped it down before finally setting the heart down with a sigh, Toby couldn't help but let out his own sigh too, the heart continued it's quick beating, as if refusing to sigh with them.

There's a moment of silence following that Toby couldn't help but feel awkward in, normally his Nana would take the heart and begin the next part of the healing process, keeping it close to her own heart so that it can slowly mend. Hearts healed better together. But his Nana already had two abandoned hearts in her care at the moment, and trying to take care of more without any help often put a strain on one's own heart. He knew that there was a web of other connected heart smiths that his Nana knew and could get in contact with for this very reason. Such an event had happened before, when a heart smith the next town over reached out to his Nana hoping she could take care of a heart that she had found but couldn't take care of for the other abandoned hearts she was looking over at the time, his Nana luckily was able to take it off her hands.

Toby glanced from the heart up to his Nana as she replaced her magnifiers with her regular glasses once again, she turned owlishly at him and he felt suddenly nervous under her perceptive gaze.

"Toby-pie," she began, her voice carrying a questioning tone that made Toby lean forward, "Would _you_ be willing to take care of this heart?"

"_Me?_" He sat up, looking bewilderedly at her and her request.

"I know it's a big responsibility," she kept her voice steady and firm as she explained, "But, you have a lot of love in your heart to give, and I think heart smithing would be a great thing for you."

He nodded along to her words, only just hearing them but more lost in his own head at the proposal. Toby had always fancied the idea of following in his Nana's footsteps and taking on heart smithing, it had always seemed like an honorable thing to do for others, and it didn't really take time away from following whatever path he would want in life. The idea of taking on this heart though made him nervous, he had never taken care of a heart before, well aside from Jim's, but that was more in an indirect way, spending time with him and being his friend. Toby had never actually held Jim's heart, had never actually taken care of it in a more direct way, if he messed up with this heart, he could really hurt it, he could really hurt it's owner.

"I understand if you don't want to," his Nana's soft voice broke him from mulling, "I know this is a lot to suddenly ask, but I really think this is something you can do."

He looked at the heart again, cozy, beating it's fast little rhythm, but cold, still probably cold. His Nana's words rung throughout his head, "They're about your age". The heart's owner likely went to Arcadia Oaks High, as it was the main feeder high school for the town and much of the surrounding area, if he took care of the heart, he could likely find it's owner and eventually return it to them once it had healed. True, the purpose of a heart smith was not to seek out the abandoned heart's owners, but only to take care of the hearts unconditionally. But could he do something like that?

"What if I mess up?" He asked looking worriedly at her, "What if I hurt them even more?"

His Nana gave him a comforting smile, "Hurt is a directly involved thing," she explained, "I know it's scary, but it's a lot scarier holding the heart of someone you know and love, 'cause you can hurt them a lot more than a stranger that just needs a little kindness," she looked back at the heart, "There's not a lot of damage you can do by dropping a heart, and believe me, I've dropped a few hearts in my youth," he looked at her with wide eyes, never expecting such a confession from his Nana, who handled hearts with such care and expertise that she could practically juggle them, though she wouldn't, of course. She laughed at his shock, "There'll be a bit of a learning curve, but I'll be right here with you Toby-pie."

"Okay," He gave a small nod as he smiled at her, feeling more confident at her words despite his still present unsureness.

"Now, Toby-pie," her voice was much softer now, there was a tint of worry to it, "You may have to carry this heart forever, it's owner may never end up finding you and taking their heart back," she explained, he felt the nervousness return, "But, they may also eventually find you after their heart has healed, and they may take their heart back and be able to move on to the next part of their life with their heart intact… And that's something very special you can give to someone."

Toby knew, he knew that the few times an owner had actually found them were by happy accidents or by the owners themselves seeking out their hearts, it wasn't something that he would be able to control.

He remembered one time a few years ago, a nice older gentleman had found his Nana after overcoming the terrible heroin addiction that had caused him to abandon his heart in the first place, having actively sought out his heart once he had healed. Toby had nervously been off in another room, observing such a personal moment in someone's life from the side, but it was a _beautiful_ thing, seeing this man be reunited with his heart. If Toby had the chance and ability to eventually give that to someone? Why should he not take it?

"Okay," he repeated, softer this time, "I'll take care of the heart."

A bright smile crossed his Nana's face and she wrapped him up in a big hug, he hugged her back and tried to make sure he could breath.

"Oooh, I know you'll make a wonderful heart smith!"

"I'll try my best," he said, letting out a little breath once she let him go.

They cleaned up the table together, his Nana went to find one of her old resting boxes for him as he put away her mending kit. She came back to the dining room with the little velvet lined box just big enough for two hearts to sit comfortably and gave it to him.

"Now remember, the resting box is for when your home, you can put your and the other heart in here to rest so your heart can help it heal," she carefully explained.

"I know Nana," he said as he took the box from her and gently placed the heart inside.

"Oooh," she cooed, placing her hand on his cheek, " I know you know a lot of these things from watching me over the years, but I just want to make sure you remember," she clapped her hands together and glanced at the clock, "I'll get dinner started, we'll go over some more details then."

He nodded taking the box in one arm and his backpack in the other, "I'll be up in my room."

He shuffled up to his room, careful with the box and the heart in one hand so he didn't drop it. It wasn't necessary, but he closed the door to his room once he was there, tossing his backpack to the side and still carefully watching the heart. He took the box over to his desk, gently setting it down so that it didn't make a sound and sitting before it.

Hearts healed fastest when they were together. Normally, for most people, this meant spending time together, loving each other, bonding or just taking care of each other, for an abandoned heart, it meant placing his own heart next to it in the resting box and just letting the abandoned heart absorb it's warmth and love. It was rare that Toby actually pulled out his own heart, he'd never really had much reason to, so now, when he pulled it out to place it in the box, he couldn't help but stare at it, and compare it to the heart he was now taking care of.

His heart was in significantly better condition then the other one, there were little fractures, of course, from being picked on over the years, but there were no heavy scars on it. Sure he asked out lots of people, and was rejected just as many times, but it was all superficial, asking people out for the chance to get to know them, he hadn't quite found himself developing any deep crushes on anyone yet. Much of his life was rather nice, through some perspective, the worst thing to happen to him was before he could really remember anything, before his heart was fully developed. He couldn't really feel the pain of losing his parents if he couldn't even remember them, his memories began with his Nana. It could be said that he was lucky to have never really experience a heavy heart break within his waking memory.

He shook his head from his thoughts, and rubbed his thumb over his own heart, it was warm, significantly warmer than the other heart before him. One last deep breath, he didn't know why just the idea of putting the hearts together was making him so nervous, and he placed his heart in the box next to the other so that they rested comfortably together and touched.

And then there was a feeling, something he had never felt before, something he couldn't quite describe. It felt almost like his heart was touching tv static. Nothing terrible, but fuzzy almost, not a good kind of fuzzy though.

Hearts naturally try to synchronize when they touch, and he watched as they slowly made to match each other's beating, creating one strong beat he could feel through the surface of his desk.

The fuzzy static sensation didn't go away, but it did calm and dull so that it was less distracting.

There wasn't much else to do at this point, just let the heart rest and soak up his own heart's warmth and love. So long as the person wasn't continuously in positions of emotional devastation, a heart smith focusing on the one heart could have it completely healed in about 5 or so months. Of course, it was a rare and lucky chance that the pain someone was going through was suddenly going to stop after they abandon their heart. Toby took another deep breath and turned away from the hearts, hoping that whoever's heart this was, that they were out of the terrible abuse that had driven them over the edge.

He hoped he could help them heal.

* * *

It was lucky that Steve's practice was in the morning that day, he had only just been home for no longer than 10 or so minutes before he found himself feeling again.

Stars above what was this heart smith person doing to his heart?

It had started off harsh, nothing he hadn't felt or dealt with before, of course he had much worse feelings in his heart, but there was pain and memories associated with it. The memory of desperately trying to keep his heart together, all the times he scrambled to wrap up his heart to keep it from falling apart. That terribly lonely feeling of having to fix it all himself. He found it was easier to sit down, and then he found it was easier to just lie on the ground and curl into himself, to wait for this sensation to go away.

He didn't want this. He wanted things to be null, he didn't want to keep feeling. He abandoned his heart so he wouldn't have to feel like this anymore, just give him a fucking break. All he could do was breath, breath and try to wait for it to end, please let him feel nothing again.

After what seemed like forever, everything finally dulled. Steve managed to uncurl from himself, watching his clenched hand relax from where it lay before him. Now he was back to not feeling, and it didn't seem to matter anymore if he could get up off the ground, he didn't care. Good.

_Good. _

Nothing was welcome in his life, nothing was what he wanted, nothing was what he deserved. It was better than anything he had felt before. He closed his eyes and breathed.

Nothing.

Nothing.

…_Something_.

Steve's eyes broke open again. There was another feeling, another sensation he was having. Something spreading out from his chest.

It was warm_._

He didn't know what was happening now, but he felt…_warm._

Not hot, like the burn he felt at the end of practice, or like the burn he felt when he wore too heavy of a jacket for the weather, but warm. Warm like going to the park with his mom, when he would run around and play in the sun with utmost joy and not a care in the world.

…Where did that memory come from?

It was a happy memory, an _old _one, something he had almost forgotten.

This odd warm feeling seemed to dredge up a whole bunch of other happy memories with it, because suddenly he couldn't seem to remember anything else.

So many old memories of laughing, playing, of being happy, unconditionally happy like when he was younger. So many memories that he had mentally pushed aside. He pulled his hand over his mouth and tried to hold back the tears that were building in his eyes.

It had been _so long_ since he had felt this, this warm, happy sensation. He didn't know how to deal with it, it was such an overwhelming change from earlier. He didn't want this either, he wanted nothing, he wanted _nothing_. And yet the warm feeling wouldn't go away.

He sobbed into the ground.

* * *

A/N: Ah I can finally share my Trollhunters fanfics! This is gonna be a short fic, with only about 3-4 chapters in total, though I'm honestly not sure how long the other chapters will come out to be. I've only got one part of the next chapter done so who knows when that will come out.

I hope you all enjoyed this!


	2. Apathetic Rollercoaster

Chapter 2: Apathetic Rollercoaster

Morning found Toby greeting Jim with the heart nicely tucked away in a custom altered fanny pack strapped across his chest. It had crushed velvet sewed on the inside of the pack to keep the padding in place, allowing the heart to sit nestled safely inside without jostling around during the day. It wasn't technically necessary to carry the heart on you at all times, his Nana explained, but it was good practice and it made the healing process go marginally faster.

Jim stared at the fanny pack as he handed one of the lunch bags over.

"What?" Was all he managed to ask, pointing at the fanny pack.

"I… my Nana's having me take care of the heart from the canals," Toby answered as he glanced through the lunch.

"Wait, really?" Jim asked leaning towards Toby.

"Yes, really," Toby nodded, "My Nana thinks that I'd work well as a heart smith, so this is kinda like, my training… or something like that."

He watched as Jim nodded thoughtfully, cautious as to how he would react, Toby didn't think Jim would ridicule him for any reason, but he was still curious as to what Jim thought about with the undertaking.

"You're kinda young for this, yeah?" Jim asked, mounting his bike, "Didn't your Nana say she didn't start heart smiting until she was much older?"

"Well, yeah, but that was by circumstance, and this is by circumstance also," Toby replied, putting the lunch in his backpack and mounting his bike as well, "And, apparently, my dad was my age when he first started heart smithing."

"Really?" Jim asked, taking off, Toby followed after.

"Yeah," Toby grinned a bit.

It had been an interesting thing to learn last night at dinner as he and his Nana talked. Sure, he knew that his father had done heart smithing, and that his mother had joined in on the practice when she met his father, but learning more about the details of his parent's heart smithing and his Nana teaching them had been an enlightening thing to learn. Somehow, it made him more confident in his decision to take on heart smithing.

"It must be destiny then," Jim said.

Toby laughed, "I think tradition is the word you're looking for."

"Well it's befitting to you regardless," Jim peeked behind his shoulder, "You're a good person Toby."

"You say that like it's a hard thing to be," Toby grinned and blew a raspberry to Jim, 'causing him to laugh, "You'd probably be a good heart smith too, Jimbo."

"Maybe," Jim tilted his head as he glided down the street, "Is it a particularly hard thing to do?"

"I guess I'll really find that out here in the next few weeks," Toby chuckled to himself.

It wasn't really that hard to take care of the heart, much to Toby's relief, it was about as easy as his Nana described. At home, he would keep the heart and his own in the resting box, that was where they were safest and where he could do the most healing, and then, while he was at school or out of the house, it would stay in the altered fanny pack where it was close and safe. Slung across his chest in the fanny pack, he could feel it's beating, just barely through the fabric of his clothes and the bag throughout the school day. The exception being the duration of his gym class, where it was kept in his locker safe and out of the eye of everyone, it was too much of a risk to have the heart on him while running around and the possible risk of getting hit during a game of dodgeball. That's what he tried to tell himself, at least, becoming increasingly anxious when away from the heart, this was his first real assignment, this was someone else's heart he was taking care of, his responsibility.

A stranger's heart, he tried to convince himself, but was unable to avoid noticing how the heart's beating sometimes sped up in the morning, just before school, or the afternoon, just after school during the weekdays. They must be a student at Arcadia Oaks High, it was too precise to the school schedule.

Just a stranger's heart, he repeated to himself, as he inevitably noted that the heart's beating was _always_ faster immediately after his gym class, an inarguable truth that the heart's owner has the same gym class as himself. It was a terrifying thought, that Toby might actually know who's heart he was taking care of, somehow he found it easier to wrap his mind around heart smithing if it was a stranger, someone he would have less of an emotional effect on in interacting with them, someone who didn't possibly know him and already have prejudice about him.

Toby did his best to avoid noticing if anyone seemed without their heart, though, not that it was something he would know how to look for. Abandoned hearts were few and far between, and the signs of a person when having abandoned their heart were largely unknown and had barely been recorded by others, it was too taboo, too personal of a matter between cultures. Besides, it wasn't Toby's job to find the heart's owner, he reminded himself, simply to care for it unconditionally.

He talked idly with his Nana about the heart when she called him down to change the bindings a little over a month into the healing process, he didn't tell her about his certainty that they heart's owner was in his gym class, unsure of how she would react or what she would advise. He didn't want to do anything should she try to convince him to find and approach the heart's bearer, he wanted to keep that anonymity. They washed the stickiness of the bandages off the heart's surface and noted it's healing process, it was hard to see much of any change, as was expected for the first month, before reapplying any bandages where it was needed and re-wrapping the heart in fresh bindings so it was once again cozy.

He was doing well, his Nana praised, and Toby repeated the words to calm and reassure himself of his anxieties.

* * *

Routine was an incredible thing. It was safe, it was expected, and it was hard to break. It was what still woke Steve up at ass crack hours in the morning and took him to practice every day despite not really caring too much. It was his routine.

Steve found that in wake of his heart being picked up by that heart smith, he had a new routine, an emotional routine, so to say. In the mornings, he felt good, the over arching warmth and wellness of whatever the hearth smith did to his heart at night lingering and taking him to dress and head to practice and class before inevitably waning and falling into the typical null feeling throughout the school day. Then, usually sometime shortly after school, the warmness would return, leaving him to take a moment in the locker room before afterschool practice to cover his face and smother the sudden sensation of warmth and happiness and odd need to cry, though sometimes the null feeling would remain, and the warmth would come later in the evening, when he was away from everyone and could properly allow himself to experience the sensation.

It was odd, that this feeling of warmth and fluctuation of his emotions was now a part of his routine, but they were. There wasn't anything he could do about it, still unaware of the identity of his hearth smith, and quite alright with that.

It didn't help that everyone around him began to notice how blank he had become during the school day.

Coach and the team were the first to pick it up, while his happier moods did tend to overlap with his practice times, he just wasn't emotionally and cognizantly the same as when he had his heart with him, still very blank. His performance on the team was waning, and Coach was more than willing to inform him of that.

"Palchuk!" He barked when they had a moment for a water break, "What are you doing out there? You're not giving your usual 110%! You're playing like everyone else out there!"

His teammates were too tired at the moment to really do anything other than give small offended looks to Coach Lawrence.

"Am I playing bad?" Steve asked.

"I…Well… No," Coach looked to the side, unsure of how to respond to Steve's blank expression and turn-around question, he wasn't usually one to talk back to Coach, especially during practice, "But, you're playing very average, and I expect more out of you!"

"Okay," Steve shrugged, he couldn't find himself able to care at the moment, "But I'm not playing bad."

There was a long pause between Steve and Coach Lawrence. The rest of the team watched anxiously for Coach's response, expecting him to explode like he always did, and bewildered at Steve's atypical behavior. Coach Lawrence squinted his eyes down at Steve as his mouth opened just enough to be seen from under his mustache as if he was about to say something.

In one swift motion, Coach kneeled next to Steve where he sat, using his body as a wall to separate Steve from the rest of the team and leaned in towards Steve.

"Are you alright, Palchuk?" He asked softly, Steve didn't know Coach had any vocal setting other than shouting.

Steve stared at Coach, confused by the sudden change of demeanor.

"I'm fine, Coach," Steve answered, his voice still flat, "Things are just a bit… odd right now," He was not going to reveal what he did to his heart. He and Coach got along well, sure, but they weren't that close.

"...Look if you need to take a couple days off, Palchuk," Coach began, Steve could only stare at him, this was not a common suggestion from Coach, "You can do that, our next game isn't until a couple weeks from now."

Steve opened his mouth to respond, but what could he say? Actually take the days off? This issue wasn't one that was going to solve itself in a couple weeks before the game, much less a couple days.

"No, I'll be here," Was all Steve said. He could quit, he probably should, he didn't care anymore, but he had always done this, he had always been on some team sport, even when he was a tyke. The idea of quitting the team and leaving seemed unfathomable to him even in his lack of caring.

Coach's mouth pressed closed as he skeptically looked at Steve, "Alright," He finally said, standing back up, "But I want you to bring your A-game, understand?"

"Okay," Steve's reply was automatic, but he knew he wouldn't.

The team watched him distantly, as if trying to gage his reaction throughout the days and figure out if he was reacting accordingly. It was the same sensation of always having eyes on him as before, this sense of caution and awareness of Steve's presence and his movements, only this time Steve wasn't purposefully seeking out this attention, it just drew its way towards him.

He was at his locker, grabbing whatever for class, vaguely hearing the talking of students milling around him when Seamus and Logan's voices cut through as they saddled up next to him.

"Hey, Eli's rambling about some stupid new conspiracy," Seamus smirked and gestured to Eli on the other end of the courtyard, Steve found himself turned around and vaguely watching Eli, his high voice now cutting through the ambient noise as Steve focused on him. Eli was doing the exact thing Seamus said he was, raving to any willing ear about something he heard, waving his phone in desperation to show surrounding students, "Wanna go "hear more about it"?"

The tone that Seamus said it in suggested something far different from just listening to what Eli had to say, it suggested what they always did, shove Eli, mock him, and usually put him in a locker. Normally, seeing Eli like that would make Steve angry, why was he always like that? Couldn't he be serious? Eli needed to be put into his place. His absurdity would enrage Steve…

But now…

Now, of course, he couldn't care less, he felt nothing in seeing Eli ramble to others about strange things that were already growing on deaf ears. Steve turned back to his locker and grabbed the last item from it.

"You guys can if you want," He didn't really care what they did to Eli on their own, he just didn't feel a need to participate himself, "I don't care," He turned and walked away with a shrug, not leaving a moment for Logan or Seamus to say anything else.

They watched him go with wide eyes, utterly perplexed at Steve's reaction and rooted to their spots. Some seconds passed and they looked at each other with a million silent questions passing between them about Steve before one last one about Eli was shared in a glance at him, did they actually go and mess with Eli? Without Steve leading them there, there wasn't really reason to. Sure, Seamus and Logan were usually the ones hover around Steve and egg him on, but they found that without him making the first move, they didn't have much conviction to do so themselves. They ended up walking away, unsure of what happened.

At home, Steve found that his caring was… just barely there. Enough to take him places, and amazingly, enough to even get him to stare at his homework and somehow work on it. Before, he would actively ignore his classes, he hated them, he hated school, finding it frivolous and mocking of his stupidity, but now, he stared blankly ahead, half listening, and so at least half absorbing what was said, something better than before. It only resulted in half his homework being done, any questions he didn't know he would skip without hesitation or effort, but it was half done, which was a weird improvement from the homework he did himself before had been.

Eli still did some of it as well, usually the bigger projects, something Steve forgot until Eli offered up a small stack of papers to him.

"I have your English assignment!" Eli said, cautious, holding up the papers in such a way that they hid his face.

"Huh?" Was all Steve could offer, staring blankly down at Eli.

"Y-your English assignment!" Eli was practically shaking now under the gaze, holding the papers forwards, trying to get Steve to actually take them, "You, you _asked_ me to-uh- do your English assignment for you, I made sure it was good!"

_Asked_, that was such a blatant lie from Steve slamming the locker above Eli to startle him and shoving the assignment syllabus in his hands, threatening Eli with what he would do if it wasn't complete in time. The moment seemed so far away; Steve couldn't seem to remember why he cared.

"Oh," He said, staring down at the paper still offered up to him.

Eli wouldn't put it into his hands, instead waiting for Steve to take it himself, he held the paper a little higher to entice Steve to act. He should take them, he should absolutely take this paper and turn it in, it was guaranteed to be significantly better than the half written one that sat in his backpack right then. It was guaranteed to get him a significantly better grade, he should take it, it mattered, didn't it?

But no, nothing mattered to Steve anymore, and the high of being home and overwhelmed with the odd warmth that somehow motivated him to actually write out as much as he could for the assignment was gone while he was here at school. There was no reason to take the paper from Eli. He turned and walked away to his next class, barely catching Eli's quiet "What?" from behind him.

All these little actions piled up, and in a few short weeks it seemed that well over half the school was aware of his odd behavior. No one approached him about it, no one was willing to ask what happened and made him change; Steve was blank now, that was the reality no one could bring themselves to question him about. For teachers it was a blessing, his disruptiveness gone, but for much of the student body it was terrifying breath of relief. He caught their words offhand, "the calm before the storm" they called it, still tiptoeing around him, staring at him with wide cautious eyes and unaware that there would be no storm to come from him, this was forever as far as he was concerned. He stared ahead, at nothing, never really looking back at anyone…

No one except for Domzalski.

He didn't know what it was, this constant staring at Domzalski, this newfound ability to find him in a crowd without effort. Steve noticed things about Domzalski now, changes in his clothes, the way he wore his hair, Domzalski had a fanny pack strapped across his chest all the time now, something that constantly found Steve's attention. He hadn't a clue what was inside, and didn't care to ask, but just kept staring at never approached Domzalski throughout all of his staring, he didn't feel a need to. Steve didn't have anything to say to Domzalski, he just stared and stared.

Domzalski never stared back, in fact he actively avoided Steve's gaze, but he was like that even before Steve abandoned his heart. Steve was a bit like a teacher in that way, more likely to engage with someone if they looked him in the eye, if Domzalski actually looked him in the eye would Steve be able to actually to do something other than stare? He wasn't sure, the opportunity had yet to present itself.

Throughout all of this, it seemed Steve's mother was the last person to pick up on his odd behavior. It wasn't her fault, she was constantly busy with work in keeping them afloat, and Steve was often at school, practice, or games. Is was only by sudden chance that she caught his change.

Steve had been in his room working on homework while his mother was down in the kitchen making dinner, cheerful and with a clear head since she had the day off from work.

"Steve?" She called from the kitchen.

"Yeah?" He called back from the other end of the house, not looking up from the booklet with piss poor Spanish written in it.

"I need you to take out the trash."

"Okay," Without a second thought, he put down his book and automatically made his way to the kitchen.

He grabbed the full trash bag in the kitchen out of the bin without looking up at his mother and took it out to the bins by the garage. It wasn't until he came back to the kitchen and saw his mother's awe stuck face staring at him that he realized his blunder. Steve rarely ever did things for her on the first ask, she would constantly have to keep asking him to do things and he would constantly fight it, leading to short yelling matches. Steve found no reason to fight it now though, he had performed the action without a second to consider why.

His mother continued to stare at him, he couldn't do the same though, electing to look away from her but unable to move from where he stood in the hall. Did she know what he did? Did she somehow know in that moment that he had abandoned his heart? Of all the people in the world, his mother was probably the only person he should tell that he had abandoned his heart, but he couldn't do it. He couldn't let her know, she would convince him to keep it, he couldn't do that, he didn't want his heart anymore. It was better now that it was gone, now that someone else as taking care of it.

"Thank you, sweetie," She said, causing him to glance back at her, a warm smile graced her face as one hand pressed against her chest.

She walked up to him with slow, precise steps, hands reaching up to cup both his cheeks and keep him from looking away.

"Oh Steve," She said with a click of her tongue, the smile still there as she rubbed on of his cheeks with her thumb, he found himself unwittingly leaning into the touch, "…I know things have been hard, with your dad leavin' and all…" She looked the side in shame, as if it was somehow her fault, if he could have found his voice, he would have told that it wasn't, "But… Thank you, for not makin' it harder than it has to be. This… This'll be good for us in the long run."

She stroked his cheek again giving him a confident smile that would have filled him with a strong sense of shame for what he had done could he feel that way anymore. She pulled him down into a hug and he found himself returning it, his head resting against her shoulder as she rubbed his back. Would she be hugging him if she knew that he has abandoned his heart? Likely not, but at the moment it didn't matter, he felt like a small kid again, wrapped up in his mother's arms. The warm memory of the same motion from when he was still shorter than her worked its way up from the back of his mind, except it was mixed in with the warm feeling of actually hugging his mother at the moment. He almost cried right then, but held it in, she would know something was actually wrong if he cried in front of her, and he didn't want to ruin the moment with awful news. He just held her tighter and took the moment for what it was.

* * *

"Hey, can I talk to you guys?"

Jim and Toby whirled around from their lockers to find Eli waiting behind them, he checked over his shoulder for a quick moment before looking back at them.

"Uh, yeah, sure. What's up?" Jim asked.

Eli never talked to them, at least, not without talking to a number of other people and waving around his phone. Despite being in a similar "social standing"- namely the bottom of the barrel- they weren't friends. Jim and Toby both watched him carefully as he began, his tone and attitude suggested something serious.

"Have you guys noticed how weird Steve's acting?" Eli asked.

Ah, the talk of the school, something that had risen up over the past month between much of the student body. Toby had overheard the topic a couple of times but tended to ignore it, he didn't care what was happening to Steve, and it didn't matter to him so long as he was able to avoid Steve.

"Yeah, of course. Who hasn't?" Jim asked with a shrug.

"It's _weird_," Eli repeated, holding his bag tighter as he leaned his head forward, Toby rolled his eyes, already bored with the topic, "I tried to give him a paper he asked from me, but he just, stared at it and walked away without even looking back. He hasn't messed me in the past few weeks, he hasn't even _looked_ at me."

"Who cares?" Toby asked, rolling his eyes, shouldn't Eli be celebrating that Steve was finally off his back? Though, maybe they all should be celebrating.

"Uhh… Shouldn't _you_ care Toby?" Eli asked, disbelieving at him, "He's been staring at _you_ like some kind of stalker for the past few weeks."

"What?" Toby's blood ran cold at the statement as he looked Eli in the eye.

"Did you seriously not notice?" Eli frowned.

"_No_. What do you mean Steve's been _staring_ at me?" Toby glanced around the courtyard to see if he could catch him, Steve wasn't there. He turned to Jim, "Did you know this?"

"Yeah, but he never did anything… I thought you knew and just didn't want to talk about it," Jim said with a concerned shrug, Toby gave him a distressed look, "Wait, did you seriously not know?"

"No! I don't know if you know this, but I do my best _not_ to look at Steve and call his attention."

"So you _don't _know what's going on with Steve," Eli gave Toby a skeptical look.

"No, again, aside from the staring, why would _I_ know what's going on with Steve?" Toby glared back at Eli.

"I dunno!" Eli took a step back, raising his hands to show his innocence, "I'm working with limited information here and the only lead I have to Steve's weirdness is his staring."

Eli, always the sleuth.

"Apathetic," A voice said from beside them, causing all three to jump and look at Darci Scott, who had silently snuck up to their conversation without any of them noticing.

"What?" Eli asked, trying and failing to hide the startled tone from his voice.

"Were you just eavesdropping on our conversation?" Jim asked, not at all hiding how unnerving her sudden arrival was to him.

"Yeah, a bit," She shrugged, like it wasn't a bother, they each shared a bewildered look with each other, not only for her odd attitude, but also for the fact that Darci Scott would never be caught talking to the likes of _them_, she turned to Eli, "And the word you're looking for is "_apathetic", _he doesn't seem to care about anything anymore."

"Almost like, emotionless," Jim added.

"Yeah, yeah," Darci nodded, pointing to Jim, "Like, he and Claire were gonna go to the Papa Skulls concert 'cause he had tickets, and then he ended up just giving them both to her outright, saying he didn't care about it. And of course, she took yours truly instead of little miss "finally got a date with Tight-Jeans Hank"."

"Yeah, well, I'm pretty sure _you_ guys know this but Steve has a lot of emotions," Eli shook his head, bringing the conversation back in the direction he wanted, "A lot of angry emotions, so for him to suddenly _not_ care about things is pretty _weird_ for him."

"Maybe it's depression?" Jim suggested with a shrug.

"That doesn't explain the whole, staring at you part of it," Darci said, pointing at Toby.

"You say this like I have some deeper knowledge about Steve," Toby waved his hands around, exasperated at everyone's suggestion that he had anything to do with Steve and his current attitude change, "I _don't_ know anything, and frankly I don't care what's happening to him! He's off our backs, yeah? That's all the information I need."

He was about to walk away, not even bothering to see if Jim would follow after, but froze when Steve came out into the courtyard.

And stared straight at him.

Everything about Toby when cold, staring directly into Steve's eyes as he stopped where he was and looked back at him, in fact, the whole courtyard seemed to go cold as everyone in the area noticed the tension between Steve and Toby. It was so quick, the way Steve seemed to find Toby despite the students that were in between their line of sight. What did Steve want with him? Toby genuinely didn't know.

There were still people moving about as normal, talking and pretending as if they weren't watching the bizarre stare down, but Toby couldn't seem to hear any of them. There was just Steve, staring at him and keeping him frozen in place.

A beat, or two, and Steve glanced down at the fanny pack strapped to his chest, fearful instinct brought his hand up to hold it protectively. Did Steve know he was carrying someone else's heart on him? It was a terrifying thought, of what Steve might do should he discover such a thing. Old memories of Steve snatching up Toby's school supplies and breaking them with a malicious glee dredge their way through his mind as fear for the heart made him hold it tighter.

Not a moment later, Steve broke his stare from the heart to give one last glace to Toby before doing a complete 180 and leaving the courtyard the way he came. Like a spell, Toby let out a deep breath and felt the cold fear drain out of him as the sound of more specified whispers seemed to return. He felt a light touch on his shoulder and turned to see Jim give him a worried look. Jim didn't have a moment to ask if things were alright before two others cut through, bringing Toby back to reality.

"What's in the bag?" Darci and Eli both asked, each giving very pointed looks at the fanny pack.

"It doesn't matter," Jim said at the same time Toby snapped a "Mind your business."

Darci and Eli straightened, sharing a look that gave a quick opening for Jim and Toby to scuttle off, neither interested in answering the sensitive questions that were likely to follow. They stopped at a quiet corner with no one else in sight.

"What the fuck?" Toby asked in reference to Steve, still shaken up by the exchange that he couldn't really count as an exchange.

"Do you think Steve knows about the heart?" Jim asked, though it looked like there was another thought very prevalent on his mind.

"Stars, I hope not," Toby said, holding the heart protectively, feeling it's carful beating, it was just barely faster than it's resting rate. Toby shook his head, "Let's just, leave that."

"Are you sure? You look like you saw a ghost instead of just Steve," Jim said.

"Yeah, yeah, it's…. it's fine, we've only got one more class today, let's just get through that," Toby shook his head one more time to shake out his nerves, he felt like he saw a ghost of Steve more than anything.

* * *

Like a switch, Steve found that he was now having to avoid Toby gaze. Something after that harrowing stare down with Toby made him start actually paying attention to Steve, and Steve now found that he wanted to avoid Toby. He didn't know what it was, whether it was something about Toby personally or moreso about his mysterious fanny pack that seemed to spook Steve so thoroughly through the core that he found no other conclusion then to keep out of Toby's sight.

It was hard of course, as they had a few classes together, the small student body of their school meant it was easy to find each other in a crowd, and of course this didn't actually manage to actually make Steve _stop_ staring at Toby every moment that he was within range. It just meant that instead of Steve staring at him freely, Toby would actually turn to stare back, and Steve would have to pretend that he was looking everywhere but at Toby.

Was it that he was somehow scared of Toby and his mysterious fanny pack? Not likely, as Toby seemed more thoroughly scared of Steve and would always clutch his fanny pack closer when he caught Steve staring. All that he found was that he wanted to avoid Toby, and keep his distance for reasons that were probably as much as a mystery to him as it was to the whole student body who whispered not-at-all subtly behind their backs.

One would think, with how much they're aware of each other and avoided each other, there would be no instances of actually running into each other, right?

But for Steve, it was not the case that fine Friday afternoon, classes had let out some good amount of time ago and many of the student's had gone home, Jim and Toby usually left quickly after school on their bikes and because of that Steve had let his guard down.

He had rounded a corner too quickly, somehow not hearing the silent steps in the near empty hallway, and slammed right into Toby of all people. They twisted around each other in some kind of jumbled dance, both yelling out startled noises as Steve felt something like a zipper catch and pull on his belt. It uncaught just as quickly as it caught and Steve stumbled backwards from Toby, watching as of all things _a heart_ come flying out of the fanny pack. He could only gape as panic flashed on Toby's face and he, rather impressively, ducked into a wild position and caught the heart before it could hit the ground.

No, not just any heart.

_His_ heart.

Steve's heart.

Toby was the one with his heart.

_Toby_ was the mysterious heart smith.

Steve took a sharp inhale of breath as he was now face to face with the heart he had abandoned a month and a half ago. It was nicely wrapped in up clean bandages, but it was undoubtedly his heart.

Toby turned back to him, fear ever present on his face, as he clutched the heart closer to him and seemed to hide it behind him, as if trying to protect it from Steve. It was laughable, almost, to think that Steve would need his own heart to be protected from himself, but, considering his history with how terribly to took care of his own heart, it was also understandable. All it really confirmed was that Toby must not have actually known that is was Steve's heart that he was taking care of.

How had he found it? By the canals where he threw it out? What had he done to take care of it? What made him become a heart smith? What did he do to Steve's heart every afternoon that made him feel that way? Warm, and happy… almost.

Neither of them moved for who knew how long Toby holding his defensive pose and watching Steve carefully, while Steve constantly switched from looking at his half-hidden heart to Toby's calculating face. The millions of questions kept billowing through Steve as his mouth remained half-gaped, trying to find something to say but not sure what should come first.

"Uh-"

"You're a heart smith," Steve blurted as Toby broke their silence.

Toby's eyebrows rose and he relaxed, just barely, clearly having not expected that statement.

"I… I am."

They each paused, Steve thinking of something else to say, to ask, while Toby seemed ready and inching away to run.

"Do you know whose heart that is?"

It's a stupid question, as obvious by the way Toby seems to continue hiding Steve's heart from him, of course he didn't know.

"Uh…no."

Toby took a cautious step back and Steve instinctually took a step forward, ignoring the way his mind told him to run from the heart.

"If you don't know who's it is, then why are you taking care of it?" Steve didn't know why he kept asking these things, maybe being in such close proximity to his heart was making him feel things again, making him _want_ for something, answers.

"I…" Toby glanced away for a moment, obviously afraid to stare at Steve for too long, "A heart smith's job is to… to take care of an abandoned heart no matter the condition."

"Even if the heart belongs to a bad person?" Steve asked. Another bizarre question that he wasn't sure as to why he was asking, other than some deep want for an explanation as to why _his_ heart might deserve care from a stranger, much less someone that he has spent so long tormenting.

Toby straightened at the odd question, an uncomfortable look crossing his face as he considered the question, "I… bad how?"

"Different ways," Steve shrugged, "I know a lot of bad people," Himself for example, he knew what he did was bad, at least, now that he stopped, he knew. Now that people were less afraid of him, he knew, or at least afraid of him in a different way. He just didn't care to do anything about it, now that his emotions weren't getting in the way, he recognized that what he did was bad, but now, in front of his own heart, "Why do they deserve some stranger to come along and take care of their heart for nothing in return?"

Toby expression quickly changed to suspicion of his words, "I… Steve, do _you_ know whose heart this is?"

Steve realized his mistake in that moment, not at all ready to reveal that the heart was his. He took a small step back as Toby now leaned forward, before pivoting and running off; a distant "hey!" came from Toby, but he didn't attempt to chase after.

What a fool Steve was, to try and tempt fate like that with his questions, if he revealed too much, Toby might have made him take his heart back.

* * *

A/N: My ideas for this story keep making it longer and longer, this is probably gonna end up being like 5 - 6 chapters now. I have the 3rd chapter planned and an idea of how the rest of the fic is gonna play out, I just gotta like, arrange them in a way that makes sense.

Anyways thanks for reading!


	3. Atypically Typical

Chapter 3: Atypically Typical

A/N: I had a lot of trouble with this chapter, I've always had a lot of trouble going along with the whole "forgiving your bullies" thing 'cause I'm… a bitter cunt who would not easily forgive the people who bullied me, I'd be like "yeah, good you're trying to improve yourself (something most pieces of media using this idea don't even attempt) but do it away from me and maybe choke on a dick for all the shit you did to me."

But boy howdy did Wizards lack of development for Steve make me wanna work on this.

* * *

It was quiet in the house, it always was nowadays.

Steve hadn't picked up on it at first, it always felt so temporary at first, so stifling, he'd play music to try and drown it out, until his mom would yell at him, breaking the quiet his father always left behind.

But now, without any feeling to turn on his stereo and listen to music, to drown out his feelings or even just experience them in a controlled way, house was quiet.

Not silent, no, his mother presence was a nicer one now though, without their fighting. She hummed, and danced around, and called him "sweetheart" or "honey", and watched TV as a reasonable volume, no longer having to battle for sound space in their house. It was nice, in a way, he almost wished he could feel it to the full extent.

She was humming now, he could barely hear it from her bedroom, door open in an unfamiliarly inviting manner, the jingle of jewelry occasionally breaking the notes. Steve was in his own bedroom, door also open for having no reason otherwise to have it closed, he sat on the floor, backpack strewn next to him, waiting for the heart smith to do whatever they did at the end of the school day to make him feel just enough to do homework or something.

He refused to acknowledge Domzalski as the heart smith taking care of his heart, certain that it was just a trick of his mind.

Domzalski hated him.

Domzalski was terrified of him.

Domzalski was back to avoiding him again.

Steve was certain he knew now.

And yet nothing changed.

The emotional rhythms were still the same, if a bit late this afternoon.

A knock brought Steve out of his musings to look up at his mom standing in his open doorway. She looked nice, hair done up, makeup different from how she wore it normally for work, a nice outfit and jewelry to match. She looked like she was going out. She hadn't told Steve about anything.

"Steve, honey," She said in that cautious voice of hers that made it seem like he'd run at the slightest thing, her hands were clasped in front of her in a pleading manner, "I'm gonna be going out tonight."

She watched carefully for his reaction, but there was nothing he could feel.

"Oh." Her smile strained at the ambiguous response.

"…On a _date_," She added, still watching closely.

_Oh._

He wasn't expecting that, and while it'd been over a year since his mom had weaseled his father down into a divorce, and two months since the restraining order, she'd yet to try and start dating again. Should he be bothered? He honestly couldn't tell how he would have reacted to this information with his heart, his mother was just moving on, right? She could do what she wanted.

"Okay," He gave the blank response, unable to even imagine how he'd react otherwise, and his mother visibly relaxed at the perceived approval.

"I'll be out most of the night but I'll probably be back around 10, so leave a light on for me will ya, honey?" She stepped into his room to speak more directly to him, he nodded along, "There's leftovers in the fridge for you to reheat," She squatted down and kissed his forehead, he could feel the lipstick mark on his skin before she wiped haphazardly at it, "Stay safe, do your homework, and don't get into too much trouble."

She said it like a joke now, now that it seemed to no longer be a possibility with him, getting into trouble. He nodded along and repeated her words of "Stay safe" back to her in an automatic way.

"I'll see you tonight, honey," She got up and waved at him, he repeated the gesture and just watched as she disappeared.

He listened to the click of doors and locks, and the sound of her car, and then silence. A rare, welcoming silence that left Steve startlingly alone. If his mother's date went well, it might change again, there might be someone in the house with them once again.

At least his heart was no longer there to get hurt if the house became loud again.

His chest felt warm with the now familiar sensation of feeling coming back, he put his hands over his face even though there was no one to see him smile and nearly cry.

At least his heart was somewhere safe.

* * *

"I know you don't really want to talk about Steve," Jim started once they reached their cul-de-sac, their bike ride having been in peaceful silence, "But you two have been extra flighty around each other lately. What happened?"

Ah Jim, always able to see through Toby and know when something was up, it was something that Toby both loved about him and hated during his more private issues. Toby had yet to tell Jim about slamming into Steve for sheer embarrassment of having exposed someone else's heart to a stranger, and for hoping that if he ignored it, it would go away of its own or prove to not be real.

Such wasn't the case for Toby.

"I…" He turned to look at Jim directly, he was never good at keeping things from Jim to begin with, "Steve saw the heart."

"He did?!" Jim nearly jumped forward, his eyes bugging out as they pleaded for more information.

"Yeah," Toby sighed, ashamed at himself once again, "You know when I went back for my Spanish textbook after school a couple weeks ago?" Jim nodded, "Well, he was there too, around the corner, I-I didn't notice him and we slammed into each other, something caught the fanny pack's zipper and… the heart fell out, Steve saw it."

Toby put his head in his hands with a sigh, ashamed at admitting his failure, a moment later he felt the soft pressure of Jim's hand on his shoulder.

"You… you're still learning," He offered softly in some hope to be comforting.

"Yeah, but _Steve Palchuk_ of all people was the one to see it!" Toby threw his hands up, exasperated, "What if he… What if he stole it? O-or what if he took it and broke it more?! You know how he is with other's things!"

"Yeah, and well, you know how he's been lately," Jim said matter-of-factly, giving Toby a look to go along with it. Toby just rolled his eyes, still unwilling to accept that Steve's change of character was by any means permanent, "Well, how _did_ he react when he saw the heart?"

"…Shocked, like any person would," Toby shrugged noncommittally and looked away from Jim, Steve's reaction was still something that rocked him to the core. Toby kept his voice low as he spoke, "He knew what a heart smith was, which was strange, and then he asked me if I knew who the heart belonged to…" Jim watched Toby carefully as he paused and let his words hang there, he turned back to Jim slowly, "I think… I think Steve might know who the heart belongs to."

"Really?" Jim asked, leaning in conspiratorially even though there was no one else in the cul-de-sac aside from themselves.

"I don't know, but he, he was so strange," Toby shook his head, "He asked me if I would take care of a heart even if it belonged to someone bad," Jim gave him a strange look that echoed his confusion at the statement, "And then he said that _he_ knew a lot of bad people, I don't know, I just, that's such a weird thing to say, and then he ran away when I asked if he knew who it belonged to… I think he knows."

Jim nodded, a hand against his chin as he thought over what Toby told him, "Do you think…" He licked his lips, unsure if he wanted to voice his thoughts, "Do you think it might be _Steve's_ heart?"

"What? No, it's not his heart," Toby immediately responded with a shake of his head, surprised that Jim would even suggest that.

"…Well, what makes you say that?" Jim asked.

"I…" Toby paused, he didn't really have a proper answer, he didn't even have a reason. All Toby knew was that the heart _couldn't _be Steve's, it couldn't because _he_ didn't want it to be.

"Think about it," Jim said after waiting for Toby's lack of answer, "Steve's been acting weird for, what? Two-ish months? That's about how long you've been taking care of the heart, right? And think, he keeps staring at _you_, no one else, and at the fanny pack, isn't there something about always being able to find your heart even when you don't have it? That's why people exchange hearts, right? Love and stuff but also to find each other?"

"No," Toby shook his head, he didn't like this evidence Jim was presenting, "No-no-no, it _can't_ be Steve's heart."

"Why not?"

"Because it-it's…" Toby looked at his hands trying to find some kind of an answer, "It just _can't!_"

"That's not a reason Tobes," Jim sighed, "Look I know you don't like it, I get it, but I mean, why else would he react the way he did when he saw it?"

"Lots of reasons!" Toby said, hating how much sense Jim was making and how much sense he seemed to be losing, "Anybody would be surprised at seeing someone taking care of another's heart! Heart smiths aren't that common! I-it can't be _Steve's_, it's just so typical!"

"Typical?" Jim leaned back, watching Toby carefully for an explanation.

"I-I, just, out of _all_ the people in Arcadia, the person whose heart _I'm_ taking care of has to be StevePalchuk's?!" Toby huffed. There was more, he remembered his Nana's words, _there's signs of abuse_, and he thinks it so _typical_ that a bully like Steve was also abused, but he can't bring himself to say it, knowing that he'd sound like a completely insensitive jackass. Still he lets his anger grow and bubble out, "After everything he did to _me_, to _you_, to _us_! And then he has the _gall_ to just cast out his heart as if he hasn't hurt dozens of hearts himself with his relentless torment?!"

"You're saying it like he did this on purpose," Jim said flatly, hands up in a placating manner, "You're being irrational."

"Am I not _allowed_ to be irrational?!" Toby huffed, a hand on his chest while turning to Jim.

"I mean," Jim stumbled, unsure of what to say to stop Toby's ranting, Toby wasn't even sure if he could say anything to calm him down. He was just so insatiably angry at the prospect that, of all people, it was _Steve's_ heart he was taking care of, "Not when it comes to someone's heart."

"It's _Steve Palchuk's _heart!" Toby threw him arms open, bothered that Jim didn't seem to understand this point like he did. It was rare that he ever let his anger out so much but now that is was there, he wanted to feel justified in it, "Steve "trash compactor" Palchuk?! Steve "hey you're good at history, right? Do this essay for me, _or else_" Palchuk?! Steve "always aims for your face in dodgeball" Palchuk?! Steve "oh that was yours? Oops, _not_" Palchuk?! This-this isn't just some minor detail!"

"Look, I get that Tobes, and I get why you're angry, believe me," Jim said defensively, hand against his chest, "This isn't the most ideal scenario for your first heart smithing project, but…" Jim looked Toby directly in the eye, he just barely felt some of his anger dissolve in seeing the way Jim warily eyed him with worry, "Something, or someone, _hurt_ him... A lot, for him to abandon his heart, that's why you're taking care of it in the first place. I mean, didn't you say there were scars from a parent continually leaving? I mean, that must have hurt him a lot."

"Yeah? And so he's had to take it out on the rest of us? I mean," He scoffed, "Your dad left and _you_ didn't turn into such an asshole!"

Toby regretted the words the moment they left his mouth, watching as Jim's expression turned steely and the way he stiffened, hands clenched as his side as he held back whatever anger may have surfaced.

"I-I'm sorry, t-that's not…" Toby quickly stumbled out, anger having suddenly been snuffed out by the immediate regret at his words. He also knew in that moment that his words were wrong, Jim didn't know about the abuse aspect of the heart's situation, the information feeling too personal to share, "I didn't mean to say… I'm sorry, that, was uncalled for, t-that was rude of me."

Jim took a deep breath, closing his eyes tightly before letting it out and opening his hands.

"It's fine," He said in a way that meant it was _not_ fine.

"I'm sorry," Toby repeated, rather pathetically.

"S'fine," Jim said even quieter, shaking his head, "You're just not thinking straight, just… take some time to cool off and I'll see you tomorrow."

"I…" Toby wanted to apologize again, but he knew it wouldn't help the situation, "I'll see you tomorrow," He mumbled pathetically as Jim began to turn to his house, he stopped.

"We… we don't know what kind of home life Steve came from," Jim said, his voice low but not out of anger, but out of sympathy.

He turned the rest of the way and wandered over to his house while Toby just nodded dumbly unsure of what else to say, only knowing in that moment of clarity that Jim's words hung true. Toby took one long deep breath and held it in until all of his anger has dispersed or was smothered, and let it out, pressing his forehead against the handles of his bike as he walked over to this own house. His stupid words repeated in his head, berating him for being such an insensitive, condescending ass towards Jim in his moment of anger and letting the shame fill him. He put his bike away and came in through the back door, calling out a greeting for his Nana that was more loud than cheerful, a brief call back from his Nana welcomed him home as he made his way towards his room.

He trudged up the stairs as his Nana briefly asked him how school was, he didn't stop as he grumbled out a "bad" and holed himself up in his room. For a brief second after closing his door Toby felt a horrible sense of relief flow through him at no longer having to be seen by anyone for a moment, and more so, for having a moment to try and think clearly.

Of course, nothing was clear, shame still heavily muddled his thoughts as he tossed his bag over towards his wardrobe, its weight making a harsher noise than he would have wanted as it hit the ground. And then, for a moment, without the weight on his shoulders, he was reminded of the heart again.

He felt the quiet, gentle beating from where it was still slung against his chest.

His anger slowly bubbled up again as he pulled the fanny pack off his chest.

_Steve's heart_.

Supposedly.

He opened the bag and saw the heart, still wrapped and cracked and hurt, but doing better than when he found it. Still reigning on being cooler to the touch but it didn't have that same awful cold it initially had, it beat gently in Toby's hands.

_Steve's_ heart.

He hated it, and for the briefest moment, the horribly cruel thought to crush the heart in his hands came up.

It was snuffed out as quickly as it was thought up.

He couldn't do that.

It was too cruel.

It was too fucked up.

What a horrible thought to go through his head.

He still hated this heart, hated what it seemed to be doing to him.

_Steve's_ heart.

With a sigh, he put the heart and the bag on his bed.

The image of Steve's face when he saw the heart bled its way into Toby's mind, the utter shock and confusion that Toby assumed was from seeing a stranger's heart. But most importantly…

The _fear_.

The fear that Steve had upon seeing the heart, _his _heart.

Steve's heart.

Toby didn't understand the fear at first, and more thought of it as a trick of his mind. Steve Palchuk was never _afraid_, he was never one to show a weakness such as _fear_ to another one of his classmates.

Steve Palchuk was afraid of his own heart.

The _why_ left Toby more confused than he should be, and he found himself angry at that confusion. He hated how inexperienced all these questions made him feel.

What kind of heart smith was he?

Jim's words echoed through his head for a moment, "You're still learning."

He hated how young he felt.

With a deep sigh he turned to his door, intent on talking to his Nana for some help, though upon opening it, he found her on the other side, head not at all subtly turned to the side in attempt to listen through the door. Her concerned expression was quickly wiped away with a smile.

"Hello again, Toby-Pie," She greeted warmly.

"…Can we talk?" Toby mumbled, head hanging.

"Of course," Her warm hand was on his shoulder, pulling him along out of his room the moment she said it.

They meandered down the stairs and over to the dining room, Toby taking his seat across from his Nana at the table and putting his elbows up to hold his face in his hands. Normally his Nana would scold him for such posture at the table, but she simply sat and waited for him to initiate the conversation.

"What's on your mind, dear?" She asked softly, when he let them sit for too long without saying anything, hands folded politely in her lap.

"I… The heart I'm taking care of…" He started, she non-too-subtly leaned forward, "I think I know who it belongs to."

She let the information hang for a moment, waiting for him to explain more, but Toby just let it hang, feeling angry once again at the thought of having to explain it all.

"…And?" She pressed.

"And… Pretty sure it's Steve _fucking_ Palchuk's" He grumbled, staring hard at the table.

"_Ah_," She said with an air of familiarity, letting his swear slide for the moment. She knew about Steve, she only knew a fraction of the things he'd done to Toby (and Jim by relation) as he knew not to reveal too much lest his Nana try and talk about it to the teachers. Toby had seen what happened to Eli after his mom ratted him out to the principal and got Steve in trouble for however briefly. But his Nana knew enough, "You're certain?"

"_Yeah_," He spat with overwhelming bitterness, "The heart's beating rhythms match up with the school schedule, he's got the same gym class as me and the heart's beating is _always_ faster after gym class. He's been acting weird as fuck for about as long as I've been taking care of the heart for the past couple months and he's been staring at me incessantly since," He quickly explained, hating Jim's evidence coming back up, proving it's own point, along with other details he noticed that were finally starting to make sense, "…_Apparently,"_ He tacked on for good measure.

"You're not happy about this," His Nana said matter-of-factly.

"Of course I'm not!" He shouted, swinging his arms out in an obvious gesture. His Nana barely flinched at his outburst, but still he quickly receded, knowing it wasn't her fault and scared to have a repeat of saying the wrong thing like with Jim. He took a shaky breath, desperately wanting to explain himself before she tried to tell him something about "being the bigger man", "E-everything he's done to me, a-and Jim, and _so_ many others, I just, _yeah_ I'm angry that my first heart smithing project has to be Steve Palchuk's heart," His words became more rushed as he said them, hands moving to gesture with each word and let out how angry he truly was, he near smacked his chest as he continued, "That _I_ have to give him some kind of fff- kindness or forgiveness or whatever and heal his heart and pretend like he hasn't hurt me in any kind of way. I-I'm _angry_ about that."

"And you're allowed," She said calmly with a light nod towards him.

"Thank you!" Toby's voice barely cracked, hand closing into a fist on his chest, almost shaking from the validation.

"But," His Nana said calmly, Toby couldn't hide the shame on his face, he should have known there would have been circumstances, but he was too caught up in her words to consider it, "If your own bias will stop you from taking care of the heart properly, then I'm going to have to ask that we find another heart smith to take care of it."

"W-what?" Toby shook his head, surprised at his Nana's steady words, and stared directly at her, she stared back with a quiet sympathy.

"If you don't want to take care of the heart, you don't have to," She explained, her words far too calm for what she was suggesting, "You don't _have_ to do anything, I can find another heart smith to take care of the heart until he's ready."

Toby was not prepared for the devastating sense of failure his Nana's words gave him. His first heart smithing project, and he had _failed_, couldn't even take care of the heart for 2 months because of his own bias. He hated it, hated the feeling of failure and the desperation he had at the prospect of having his first project taken away.

"W-wait," He said, a pathetic plea to his Nana, "I-I don't…"

His Nana watched him carefully as he struggled for words, for an argument to fix the situation he'd thrown himself into and some way to get rid of his horrible feeling of failure.

"I know this is hard," His Nana began, seeing his inner turmoil but misreading it.

"N-no, I-I can… I can…"

She stopped and squinted her eyes at him, trying to figure out what he wanted to say.

"You can?"

"I c-can do this," He tried to explain, his words feeling messy and unfinished with his thoughts, "I don't wanna- I… I want to be able to continue my first heart smithing project. _Please_, I… Steve is…"

His words died there, he didn't have any defense for Steve, any want to forgive him, but he tried to look at his Nana and convey to her want he wanted, _teach me to be better_, something.

"…" His Nana took a deep breath as she listened and let it out in a way to hide her sigh, Toby slouched a bit more, trying to mentally impact himself for what she was about to say, "You're young," He hated how easily her words struck him, and again for how young he felt in that moment, "You both are," He looked up at her, curious, "I know you want to hold onto all of your anger for what he's done to you and Jim and the… others, but you'll find that with time, that anger will either drain away or drain you away."

He stared at her as she spoke, the drained feeling of being angry then, and every other day he'd been furious at Steve or any other thing, dwelled in the back of his mind. Being angry was fine, every now and then, but he knew that constant anger always came with that drained feeling.

"You're still allowed to _be_ angry with him, and you don't have to forgive him," His Nana continued, her words gentle, "But, you're both still young, and you both still have great potential to change."

_Change_.

That. That was what he couldn't believe Steve could do.

Change.

Even though he'd already seen it begin to happen, with the abandoning of his heart.

"He can change," She said more firmly, as if willing Toby to believe it, the tiniest part of him did in that moment, "If he has help. Everyone can, and the younger you are, the easier it is for you to change," A small smile worked its way on her face as she spoke, "Everyone just needs a little help. Now, that help doesn't have to come from _you_, or me, or even a heart smith. But, you know that he needs help. So long as he's willing to change, and that he gets help, he will."

Toby blinked up at his Nana, words swimming through his head as he thought on them, she was right, in a way, as much as he hated to admit it, as much as he hated to believe it, she was right. The question of whether or not he was to be the one to help Steve still lingered, he wanted to say no, that someone else would be better suited to the job in not knowing Steve on such a personal, victimizing level. Yet, a selfish part of him still didn't want to give up his first heart smithing project, didn't want the feeling of failure that came with it…

Wanted desperately to believe that Steve could change, and that _he_ could be the one to help him.

"Can I…" Toby looked down, playing with his fingers, "Can I have some time to think about it?"

His Nana peered closely at him, as if trying to judge the purity of his intentions, he felt transparent for a moment.

"Of course," She said softly, a hand reaching out to take Toby's own, he could barely feel the soft pressure of one of the cats rubbing against his ankles, as if reassuring him with her, "And remember, I'm always here if you need to talk about things, or need help," She grinned reassuringly, "You're not alone Toby-Pie."

"I… Thanks, Nana," He gave her a small smile back, still not quite able to look her all the way in the eye, and gave her hand a squeeze.

She let him go as he got up and wandered back to his room, feeling both lighter at the conversation and heavier at the decision. In his room, Steve's heart still sat on his bed, staring at him from its cozy wrappings.

The scars from when he first found it popped into his head.

He lifted it up, feeling the gentle beating.

The look of fear on Steve's face came back.

Toby ran a thumb over the heart.

Jim's words ran through his head again.

"_We don't know what kind of home life Steve came from."_ Not really…

He sighed as he took the heart over to the resting box, pulling out his own and setting it beside Steve's.

* * *

Morning brought an odd sense of dread for Toby, he knew his decision, to keep the heart, having talked about it more with his Nana at dinner. But it didn't make the decision any less terrifying, it didn't make the idea of what was to come next any less terrifying.

Steve needed help, he had abandoned his heart because of a familial problem, because of abuse, and Toby found himself in the position to help Steve. More than just taking care of his heart, being closer to Steve meant he could have a better emotional impact on him, and more so, actually help start the motions for Steve to actually change.

He would have to befriend Steve.

It was a terrifying thought.

His Nana had talked with him thoroughly about it, reminding him that while greatly beneficial, it wasn't his only option to help Steve, though Toby saw it as such. Steve needed help, Toby and his Nana had the knowhow and resources, and nobody else seemed to be willing to help Steve, still buzzing cautiously around him and interacting with him on a purely superficial and strongly defensive manner. If Toby was going to keep Steve's heart, he might as well go all in and help Steve in every way he could no matter how much the idea scared him.

Though he wasn't sure how he'd go about befriending Steve, they were both still heavily cautious around each other, and Steve _knew_ that Toby had his heart, is wasn't likely that he'd accept it being back in his life so soon after having abandoned it.

But Toby could take his time to figure that out, what came first was a proper apology to Jim. He grabbed his bike from the garage and rolled it over to Jim's house like he always did, waiting patiently for Jim to come out so they could head to school.

The garage opened as Toby walked up to it, their timing impeccable as always, Jim came out rolling his own bike alongside him, the small smile he gave Toby helped him relax.

"Mornin' Tobes," Jim started, his voice quiet but not lacking familiar warmth of the greeting, it still felt tense.

"Mornin' Jimbo," Toby replied, he took a deep breath as a last minute way to calm himself, "I wanted to apologize again, for what I said yesterday," Jim stared calmly at him, a barely there nod allowing for him to continue, "What I said was rude, and uncalled for, and, and really stupid of me to say. You're right, your, your circumstances are different and we don't know everything about Steve. I'm sorry."

Jim nodded along as Toby spoke, a small smile broke out on his face once he finished, one that spoke of miles of forgiveness.

"You're my best friend, Tobes," He began, voice still soft, "I know you didn't mean what you said, and that you were acting irrationally, and… and I get it," Toby nodded along, trying to silently convey his thanks without interrupting Jim, "I'm glad you've calmed down. You're still my best friend, even if we say stupid things to each other."

Jim reached over and pulled Toby into a hug; their bikes awkwardly balanced on them as he eagerly reciprocated the hug. After a moment they pulled away and Jim looked down at the fanny pack across his chest as they grabbed their bike handles once again.

"So you still have his heart?" Jim asked, slowly, swinging his leg onto his bike so they weren't late, Toby followed suit.

"I… yeah," Toby said, they pushed off and rolled down the street, Jim sailed farther than Toby but kept his head half turned to show that he was listening to what Toby had to say, "I talked to my Nana about it, and… and she made some good points about the whole situation. So, I'm going to keep taking care of Steve's heart."

The words felt odd to say out loud, particularly with the specification that it was Steve's heart, some tiny part of him still doubted that it could be Steve's.

"Are you going to tell him you know?" Jim asked, they rounded the corner from the neighborhood and started on the more busy street.

"I am, but I'm not sure when," Toby raised his voice to be heard over the cars, "Or how even to confront him."

"Think he'd run off before you could talk to him?"

"Yeah, probably, and I mean, what do I even say? "Oh hey there Steve! I've noticed your heart's got a bit of an ouchie here, need some help?"" Toby used one hand to gesture at how ridiculous he sounded while keeping the other on the handles.

"Hmm you've got a point," Jim glided down the sidewalk in thought.

"I dunno, I'll try and figure it out here eventually," Toby put his hand back down and watched the sidewalk zip underneath him, "But I've gotta do something, yanno?"

"I do," Jim nodded, he offered a reassuring smile from over his shoulder, "Listen, if you need any help, I'm here for ya, Tobes."

"Thanks man."

* * *

His mother's first date went well it seemed, and Steve found three other nights of being alone in the house for reasons other than a late shift at work. His mother always seemed so happy to go one these dates, but she'd yet to actually reveal the identity on the person she was dating; Arcadia Oaks was a relatively small town, and while they by no means knew everyone, it was likely that Steve might at least know of the person she was dating or knew someone related.

It was after the fourth date that Steve found his mother had arrived home earlier than most date nights and called for Steve to come to the living room. She stood near the closed front door, a nervous look on her face, this was different. Some bizarre old instinct made him scan her, check for possible bruises or other marks, but, as far as he could see, she was fine, she gave him a sweet smile as he greeted her and asked how her date went.

"Good, it went really good, honey," She stayed by the door and smiled with that same strained smile she had when she first told him about going on the date, "Steve, honey, do you, do you want to meet him?"

Oh.

That explained her nerves, that made more sense as to why she was nervous more than anything, but he still couldn't shake the old instinct that something bad had happened and she'd gotten hurt. His mother waited patiently for him to say something.

"Okay," He nodded, there wasn't much else to do aside from delaying the inevitable. Something still seemed off, and he couldn't tell if it was his mother, or him, or just the situation.

She reached over and gently opened the door, pulling it open and her date walked in. Steve instinctively straightened.

"Honey, say hi to Wilson Lawrence, or as you know him, Coach Lawrence."

Said Coach Lawrence shuffled through the door, probably having known who he was going to meet, and looking nothing like how Steve had ever seen him before. Instead of the common gym clothes and baseball cap Steve have mentally assumed Coach lived in, he was in a nice button down and slacks, his sleeves folded just above his elbows, and his bald head on full view. He stood in an awkward way that Steve didn't know he had the capacity for, never having seen Coach as anything other than brazen and loud -a bit like himself when he still had his heart- aside from that one moment Coach actually spoke softly and suggested he take a break.

Steve just stood there, mouth barely agape as he tried to think of something to say, some way to react, but there was nothing, he didn't know what to think about the situation. Coach Lawrence was the last person he guessed would come through the door, but also not, in a way, as he couldn't imagine anybody to come through the door aside from some old, blurry memory of his father.

"Uh," Coach cleared his throat into his hand, standing ramrod straight from across Steve and still shining with awkwardness, "Palchuk-er… Steve," He gave a nod.

"Coach," Steve gave a quick nod back, he was not going to use the name _Wilson_, it was too unfamiliar.

They just stood there silently, Steve staring blankly at Coach and Coach unable to say anything, Steve's mother stood awkwardly between them waiting for some kind of reaction from Steve in particular. Coach glanced nervously at his mother.

"Are you…" Steve began, unsure of how to address the situation but knowing that neither of them were going to do anything without him acting first, "Are you waiting for some kind of approval from me?"

"-Oh, no, no, honey," His mother walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder, "I just… wanted you to know the situation."

"You can do what you want, mom," He said, and she smiled at him and pulled him into a hug, he automatically reciprocated, but was acutely aware of Coach watching them.

"Oh, I know, sweetie," She said warmly, "I just, I want you to know what's going on in my life, and… it's easier, knowing that I'm with someone who, at the very least, you are okay with."

"O-kay," He nodded at her carefully selected words, still knowing barely how to react, he turned to look at Coach once his mother released him, unused to this odd sense of power he had over his teacher in the moment.

In a way, he _was_ okay with Coach of all people being the one dating his mom, it's awkward, for certain, and different, but, even with his heart, he never held any ill-will towards Coach. Coach was one of his preferred teachers, not just because he taught P.E. -a class Steve used to look forward to- Steve also preferred Coach's health class, it had been the one to make him feel the least like it was mocking his intelligence. He didn't know how he'd react with his heart still, but it wasn't there, and in the moment, he didn't have a problem with Coach. Steve held out his hand.

"Coach," He repeated the nod, Coach Lawrence took it and gave it a firm shake, repeating the greeting back.

"Steve," It was still unfamiliar hearing Coach call him by his first name.

"Wonderful!" His mother said from where she stood next to them with an exuberant clap of her hands, Steve and Coach let their own go, "Wilson, thank you for coming by, I'll see you next week."

"Of course, Diana," Coach followed his mother as she led him out the house and over to his car, Steve stood where he was, staring at the ground and trying to assess the situation. There wasn't much else for him to consider in that moment though.

"Steve?"

He looked up at his mother who had returned, she closed the door behind him and went over to hug him, he fell into it far more easily than when Coach has been watching.

"You sure you're fine?" She asked, staring at him as if trying to see through him, he simply nodded.

"Are you…okay?" He asked awkwardly, the question still apparently hadn't left him alone.

His mother stood a little straighter, not expecting the question, she gave him a sweet smile and placed a hand on his cheek.

"I am, sweetie," Her eyes crinkled as she said them, for a moment he's more aware of her crow's feet and the thin strip of grey starting at the crest of her hair. He hadn't noticed them as much before as he did now, hadn't realized how much older his mother was now, "Things are a lot better and, I like being with him."

"That's good," Steve nodded back, in retrospect it was good, he couldn't stop the niggling in the back of his head though.

She had liked being with his father too once, a long time ago, before things had gone sour, before he started leaving. There was a "before" when things were good with his father, was this a "before" too? Should he be scared?

_Could_ he even be scared again?

* * *

A/N: Coach's first name is just one of his English VA's name, and Steve's mom's name was what my friend gave me when I asked, thanks love!

This chapter ended up being longer than I thought it would even without the confrontation scene between Toby and Steve. But that also means I've already got a start on the next chapter. I hope you've enjoyed!


	4. Beginnings of Change

Chapter 4: Beginnings of Change

It took a fair amount of time of talking and planning with Jim and his Nana for Toby to have a decent idea of how he was going to confront Steve and what he was going to say. Admittedly, more time than maybe it should have, but he couldn't help but drag his feet in fear for what was to come next once he befriended, or attempted to befriend, Steve. It felt like taking a jump over a cliff, and all Toby could do was stand and stare over the cliff's edge, desperately trying to hype himself up for the leap. It was easier to talk, and plan, and _stare _than it was to leap.

It was obvious that the heart was Steve's, now that he paid attention, the timing of before and after school team practices and Steve's shared gym times synchronized with the beating of the heart, and of course, Steve's own staring, and blatant avoiding. It would be the hardest part of this confrontation, Steve always chose the furthest seat from Toby when he could in their shared classes, he always turned around upon realizing that he was heading in Toby's vicinity, and he did everything in his power to never be alone with Toby. None of it stopped him from staring at Toby, but he was back to pretending like he _wasn't_ staring every time Toby happened to look over at him.

"I feel like catching him to talk would be like trying to pin down a frantic mosquito in a cup," Toby confided to Jim, watching Steve sitting with his friends and avoiding looking back at him from the opposite end of the cafeteria.

"Maybe we can get help from a teacher? Steve seems to trust Coach Lawrence the most," Jim suggested.

"Nuh-uh," Toby shook his head rather dramatically to emphasize his point, "I am not getting a teacher involved in heart smithing business, least of all _Coach_. He has the emotional capacity of a flea."

"Well it's not exactly like either of us can wrestle him down ourselves."

"Maybe I'll get lucky and he'll freeze like last time," Toby took an idle bite of his sandwich.

"You said he ran once you started pushing him," Jim pointed his fork at Toby as he spoke, "And neither of us can outrun him either."

"Maybe if I just keep confronting him over and over again, he'll relent and we can talk."

"…" Jim stared at him as he mused over the thought, "I hate that your most impulsive plan seems like the one most likely to work."

"It's something," Toby shrugged, knowing that his plan was stupid, but the more important aspect, he knew, was what he'd say to Steve, "I'll try tomorrow, after school, I think his practice is in the morning, so I won't have to wait around until it lets out."

"Alright," Jim sighed again, "I'll stay by and keep watch for you," Toby quirked an eyebrow in silent question between his chewing, "From a distance, maybe if he knows he's being watched he'll be less likely to run, and I'd rather you not get hit if it does end up going sour."

"I don't need you to always try and protect me," Toby said, adjusting to sit straighter. He doubted this Steve would even try anything so rash, but he grinned, "But, regardless, thank you."

* * *

Toby kept a close eye on Steve that day, watching how he still avoided Toby's gaze and how he slogged through the school day with robotic boredom whenever he was within viewing range. As it got closer to the end of the school day, Jim started sending Toby occasional texts on Steve's whereabouts, as he'd yet to start avoiding Jim.

The last bell for the day rang and despite Toby's intense mental preparation, he found himself ridiculously nervous at the sound and what it meant he had to do next. He went to his locker like normal and grabbed his things, knowing that Steve moved slow and was usually one of the later students to leave the school grounds at the end of a normal day. His phone chimed with a text from Jim once he closed his locker.

"Just passed my locker," Which meant Steve was 2 hallways away from his own, Toby hiked his bag on his shoulder and fought the stream of students leaving the school to head to Steve.

He tried to be quick as he made his way to Steve without actually running down the hallway, hoping to catch him just before he left his locker and keep him there. Toby rounded the corner and found Steve at the other end of the now sparsely populated hallway.

He took a deep breath from where he stood, watching Steve as Jim came up next to him and gave a little tap on his shoulder, Toby jumped at the touch.

"Sorry," Jim held up his hands as a show of peace.

"No, I'm sorry, you're fine," Toby shook his head, "I'm just stupid nervous about this."

"We can do it tomorrow if you want," Jim offered.

"No, no," Toby said softly, "If this one doesn't work, I'm gonna have to confront him over and over again until we can actually talk, it's better to start now instead of trying to delay it."

Jim nodded and gave Toby a helpful little push towards Steve's direction, he walked silently forward watching as Steve closed his locker door and zipped his backpack closed. Toby was behind him by the time he turned around to leave.

Steve, understandably, jumped and leaned his back against the lockers upon seeing that Toby had snuck up on him. Toby held up his hands in a placating manner, hoping that Steve would at least have some pause before running off.

"I'm not going to hurt you Steve," He said softly, carefully watching the cautious expression on Steve's face, and how he blatantly looked down at the fanny pack on Toby's chest, "I just want to talk."

Steve opened his mouth to say something back but held it open, his breath careful and his brows kitting together as he looked over Toby, trying to figure out what to do. After a few seconds without Steve saying anything or moving, Toby continued.

"I know this is your heart that I'm taking care of," Toby placed a hand over the fanny pack.

A flash of _panic_ flew over Steve's face at Toby's words, and his eyes searched for a way to escape Toby's confrontation. Steve must have seen Jim in the distance, as his eyes widened at one point, before he finally looked back down at Toby, unmoving from his spot against the lockers. Toby took the opportunity to keep talking.

"I… I know you've had something awful happen, for you to abandon your heart," Toby said each word carefully as he went over the mental script he'd written out, "I know, what condition it was in, and that, you're in a lot of pain…" Toby took a small breath, glad that Steve hadn't moved, but still nervous that he would given the chance, "I want to be able to help you, more than just with heart smithing. Um, I know things can be hard to deal with, on your own, so, I'm here, because, because I want to be your friend, Steve."

He held out his hand for good measure, as an offering, for Steve to take.

Steve just stared blankly at it.

An unbearable amount of time seemed to pass as Steve looked over the hand, and at the fanny pack, and finally up to Toby's face, he put on his most reassuring smile as Steve tried to read him.

"No you don't," Steve finally said, his eyebrows pinched in a sad way and a small frown on his face as he lightly shook his head, "You don't want to be friends with me."

It was said with soft kind of defeat Toby had never heard from Steve before, something honestly so saddening to Toby in that moment, though, most of all he, was surprised by how easily Steve saw through him. No, he didn't really _want_ to be friends with Steve, but this was what he had to do, for Steve's help, for Toby's failure, they _needed_ to do this. Toby took a small breath to brace himself, and then _lied trough his teeth_.

"I do," He said, trying to be convincing, still holding his hand out, "I do want to be your friend."

For a moment, Steve looked like he believed him, but still he hesitated, fear was still very much present in how he looked at the fanny pack. There was another gentle shake of Steve's head again as his mouth wobbled open.

"No you don't, I… I've been a horrible person to you, I've done terrible things to you, and Jim," Steve looked up at where Jim was watching them, though he couldn't hear them from the other end of the hallway, "He's your friend, you…" Steve licked his lips as he spoke, obviously uncomfortable with their current predicament, but still not moving, "You don't want to be friends with me."

Toby stood there, hand hovering in place as he ruminated on Steve's words. This… wasn't the direction he was expecting the conversation to go, he wasn't expecting to Steve to have some awareness as to what he'd done before, for Steve to refuse the offer because of what _he'd_ done to Toby. It was such an odd thing. Thinking of how to approach this, Toby was still glad that Steve stayed in his place, watching carefully for Toby's own reaction.

"You're aware of the things that you've done, right?" Toby asked, letting his hand drop and looking Steve in the eye, the fear still there.

Steve nodded cautiously.

"And you know that they were wrong to do?" Steve's eyebrows lifted barely, he nodded again, Toby licked his lips as he carefully chose his next words, hand clenching nervously at his sides, "Acceptance-or, in this case, admitting what you did was wrong, and being aware that it was wrong, is the first step to changing yourself, to being better."

Steve stared long and hard at him, blinking owlishly on occasion, but not moving from his spot.

"Steve Palchuk," Toby said firmly, it was odd saying Steve's full name to his face, he straightened a bit from the use of his name, "Do you want to change who you are? Who you once were?"

Steve's mouth gaped for a moment, again his chin wobbled, his words were but a whisper.

"Change how?"

"To…" Toby hovered over his words, scared most of all, of change, "To heal your broken heart, and become better…" It felt vague, but he found himself remembering his Nana's words when he talked more with her about change, and how to help Steve, "To be the loved person you're supposed to be."

It's weird to say, in front of Steve, but friendship was a kind of love, Toby knew. He loved Jim, and the friends he had made at magic camp, and that kind of love was a healing kind, his Nana explained, just as any other.

"Do…" Steve looked down, fingers flexing at his side in a nervous manner before looking back at the heart, and then to Toby once again. There's a flicker, of _want_ in his eyes, but it's clouded by caution, "Do you really think I can change?"

"Anyone can change," Toby offered a warm smile as he repeated his Nana's words; in the moment, with all of Steve's conflict, but most of all that _want_, he really believed them, "With just a little help, and a drive to actually do so, anyone can change."

Steve blinked hard as he looked Toby in the eye, his own were beginning to shine, but he stayed rooted in place.

"Do you want to change, Steve?" Toby softly asked, he wanted to offer his hand again, but waited for Steve's reaction.

He gave a shaky nod and looked down, and then tiniest whisper, "I do."

"Then let me be your friend," Toby tried to lean into his line of sight, a welcoming smile on his face, "I'll help you."

"How do you know I won't hurt you again?" Steve's head jerked up, his eyes still shining as he finally, barely, leaned off the wall of lockers, Toby leaned back at Steve's sudden movements. For a moment he was aware that everyone else in the halls had left, and it was just the two of them and Jim in the distance, but what took his attention more was the way Steve's voice shook as he spoke, "How do I know that I won't go back to being my old self once my heart is healed?"

The mere question coming from Steve himself is more of an answer than Toby could ever need, that, and the way Steve seemed to _fear_ it.

"…Do you _want_ to hurt me?" Toby asked the simple question.

"I…" Steve looked to the side, shoulders hiking up, and then dropping, "No, no I don't want to hurt you," He shook his head and looked back up to Toby, "But that doesn't mean I somehow _won't_."

"…" Toby took a small breath, looking down for a moment as he remembered what his Nana said when he brought up the same fear, he felt less afraid, in the moment, in simply knowing that Steve had the same worry as well, "If it comes to that, then we'll," He licked his lips, "We'll get a third party involved," He looked back up at Steve, trying to convey his trust, "You won't be alone in this."

Steve blinked at the simplicity of his words, seeming surprised that Toby kept pushing, kept offering answers to Steve's reason for caution. He opened his mouth to say something back, letting out a little breath in his hesitation, he looked down at the fanny pack again.

"You…" The fear was back, that same fear from when he looked at his heart before, "You won't make me take my heart back, will you?" He bit his lip and tensed, looking to the side as he whispered, "Please don't make me take back my heart."

"No," Toby brought a hand over the fanny pack, cradling it gently, "No, I'll keep holding onto your heart, I promise."

There was a silent promise in his words, Toby would hold onto Steve's heart for as long as he needed to, until Steve was ready to accept his heart back. But, of course, Toby didn't say it then, Steve was still afraid of his heart. He was still afraid of accepting it back into his life so soon after having abandoned it, but the way he looked at Toby, with hesitation, but still that spark of want, gave Toby hope that this would be Steve's first step towards that eventuality, despite his words. Toby offered his hand again as a silent repetition of his offer, _to be friends_, Steve looked down at it.

"O… Okay."

He reached out and took Toby's hand, Toby grinned brightly, doing his best to convey that this was a good thing. The absolute relief of Steve's acceptance flowed through him in the moment inter-mixed with a small feeling of success. Of course, there was still much more to come, but in that moment, standing in the empty hallway with Steve, Toby felt like he had succeeded.

It took only a couple of second of Steve staring at their hands and Toby lack of movement for that success to be replaced with a very distinct feeling of awkwardness and curiosity, what was next to come? Steve was the first to actually say something.

"Um," He looked over to the empty hallway before cautiously looking up at Toby, "Now what?"

"Well…" Toby began, racking his head for the next step, he'd only thought this far a couple of times, always having gotten hung up on the before part. He improvised, "Since we're friends now," It felt weird to say out loud, "Uh, do you wanna come over to my house and, hang out?"

He felt horribly awkward saying it, but it was a first step, something simple so they could talk and try to get to know each other like real friends.

Real friends.

This wasn't quite that yet.

But Toby would _make_ it that.

* * *

_Friends_.

What an odd word to hear from Toby.

What an odd word to hear in regards to his and Toby's relationship.

Though, Steve was the one who accepted Toby's offer to be friends, something that he was not at all expecting to come from Toby upon learning that the heart was his, Steve was the one who finally took Toby's hand when it was offered just then. His hand was warm, if a bit sweaty, and Steve's own almost comically dwarfed it from where they were intertwined. He couldn't stop staring at them, unsure of how to calm down after the myriad of emotions their bizarre conversation made him feel. Steve briefly glanced at the fanny pack still strapped to Toby's chest, it was awful, having it so close to himself again, certain that it was the thing causing him to feel. Toby's words rung through his head again, he would take care of Steve's heart still, he wouldn't make Steve take his pitiful heart back. Steve held firm onto that promise, he still didn't want his heart back.

And now stood, a different offer, one that came from his and Toby's supposed newfound friendship… _hanging out_.

"Sure," Steve said with a quiet nod, he didn't really see any reason _not_ to accept the offer, if a bit curious as well about what "hanging out" with Toby implied, "I just need to text my mom to let her know where I'll be."

"Cool," He said with a small grin as he let go of Steve's hand, jerking his head in "follow me" gesture as he turned to follow the hallway.

Steve fished his phone out of his pocket before following quietly after Toby, typing out a quick message to his mom as he walked.

"Going to friend's house, will be home for dinner."

It was odd to be referring to Toby as a friend to another, particularly his mom, who at least vaguely knew of his other friends, Toby was nothing like them.

They reached the end of the hall and turned towards the courtyard when Steve realized that Jim disappeared from where he'd been watching from a distance without outright watching them. Jim's presence made him more cautious to run, even though he knew he could easily outrun Jim or Toby, Jim made him feel too… exposed, he couldn't help but wonder how much Jim knew about his "situation" alongside Toby.

"I uh, took my bike here," Toby said as they entered the now mostly cleared courtyard, breaking Steve out of musings.

"I took my vespa," Steve said, looking over at Toby and Jim's bikes still sitting in the bike rack.

"Um…" Toby tapped his hand to his chin, thinking of how they'd go to his house, Steve knew he wasn't going to leave his bike as school so they could both take his vespa, especially if he needed it for tomorrow.

"Grab your bike, I'll follow after," Steve said with a nod to Toby's bike, Toby looked at him in question, he simply shrugged, "I'll go slow."

They each fiddled with their modes of transport before leaving the school parking lot with Steve following Toby slowly behind, he'd caught Toby briefly talking to Jim as he grabbed his bike, a little grin and a thumbs up shared between them before he and Toby left with Jim disappearing once again. Steve couldn't shake the feeling of being watched as they rode on the sidewalks to Toby's house. Technically, he wasn't supposed to take his vespa on the sidewalks, but there was barely anyone around as they made their way to Toby's neighborhood, eventually they turned onto the eerily empty street of Toby's cul-de-sac and strolled into the middle of the road.

At the peak of the cul-de-sac were two houses, Toby turned towards the green one and road up the long driveway, Steve following after him, and dismounted when he reached the garage. Steve stopped with him and turned off his vespa as Toby tapped a code into the wall adjacent to the garage door to open it.

"You can park your vespa in the driveway here," Toby said as the garage door opened, "Nobody's gonna use it for the rest of the evening and it's a pretty safe neighborhood."

Steve nodded, dismounting the vespa and shaking out his helmet hair, muscle memory made him push it all back in place as Toby put away his bike and closed the garage door. He made his way to the back door of the house and Steve followed him with now a slight moment of apprehension, he'd never met Toby's family, he only knew vaguely about Toby's home life, something about living with his grandmother -or Nana- though Steve never knew the details as to why.

The feeling was only there for a moment, as Toby didn't seem to show any qualms at all as he unlocked the back door, he was either a good actor, or legitimately wasn't worried about Steve meeting his family. They entered a quaint little kitchen area and the sensation of being watched finally went away.

"Nana, I'm home!" Toby shouted.

Steve could barely make out the sound of a tv from another room, as a woman's voice shouted a greeting back. Toby glanced over at Steve for a moment and flashed his braces.

"She's nice," He said in some kind of brief reassurance for Steve's meeting her.

And Steve caught it, there, just for a moment, was a spark of nervousness. Toby must have been an actor then, but he didn't hesitate to guide Steve through his house to the living room in the front. Ugly green wallpaper was lined with various pictures of cats and the occasional picture of people, a young woman in black and white, baby pictures of Toby, a man that looked like Toby with a beard standing and smiling with a curly haired woman, but what took Steve's attention was the busty old woman who sat on the couch across from old the tv in the corner. Her hair was a stark white and done up in twin buns, and she wore a similarly odd green patterned dress that spoke to the overabundance of patterned clothing in Toby's own day to day wardrobe, Steve recalled vaguely seeing her with Toby during parent-teacher conferences. She looked a little surprised to see Steve with Toby, but just grinned and looked at Toby in anticipation for him to introduce Steve, a little back cat lounged in a chair across from her and yawned in boredom at the situation it couldn't comprehend.

"Nana," Toby said, he hands clasped together, his nervousness more apparent as he spoke, "This is Steve," He gestured to Steve in question, "My _friend_."

It was hard not to noticed how he said the word with emphasis, but the way he kept his eyes on his Nana told Steve it was mostly for her own sake. Did she know his situation? _Their_ situation? There seemed to be a flash of recognition in her eyes but she hid it behind a bright smile as she clapped her hand together.

"Oh, how wonderful!" She said, turning off the TV and getting up from the couch with a brief groan.

"Steve," Toby looked at him and gestured to the woman that approached him, "This is my Nana."

"It's a pleasure to meet you!" She said with vigor, eagerly taking Steve's offered hand in her own surprisingly strong grip and giving him a cheerful shake, "It's so nice to see that my Toby-pie is making new friends! He's never had too many."

"Nice to meet you too," Steve mumbled, offering a small smile in return to this woman who seemed to radiate warmth before him as he briefly caught Toby flush and turn away, though it wasn't any secret that Toby didn't really have any other friends aside from Jim.

Well, and now him.

It was still an odd thing to consider.

"Nana, we'll, uh, be up in my room hanging out," Toby finally offered an escape.

"Of course," She said, letting go of Steve's hand, "Will he be staying for dinner?"

"I, uh…" Toby faltered, obviously not having thought ahead enough to have asked.

"I told my mom I'd be home for dinner," Steve answered, remembering his text.

Despite their new friendship, and his agreeing to come over, the idea of spending most of the evening at Toby's house made him nervous.

"Of course, of course," Toby's Nana said with a wave of her hand, she looked at Toby this time, "Toby-pie, did you offer our guest something to drink?"

"Uh," Toby faltered under her gaze, desperately looking like he wanted to escape to his room.

"I'm uh, I'm good," Steve said, this woman seemed delightful, but was unabashedly intense as well, "Thanks," he tacked on the end, that was the polite thing, wasn't it?

"Alrighty, dear," Her overtly warm persona was back as she looked at him, he felt transparent under her gaze, "If you need anything, just ask me."

Her words spoke of much more than just offerings of hospitality, and Steve had the distinct feeling that she knew about his current situation.

"Thanks," He mumbled again as Toby tapped his arm and lead him up the stairs, the flush of embarrassment still evident on Toby's face.

They trundled up to the top of the stairs, Steve catching more pictures of a younger Toby, the man that looked like Toby with a beard and the curly haired woman, as well as the other odd picture of a different cat.

"Sorry, I know she can be, a lot," Toby said once his Nana seemed out of earshot.

"Aren't most grandma's?" Steve said with a shrug.

Though he wasn't one to talk, he'd never met his paternal grandmother, and his maternal grandmother was a crotchety old bat that they rarely went to visit at all. Toby's Nana seemed straight out of a tv show.

Toby just gave a small smile and turned towards the door before them, opening it to a room that had the same odd look that most of the house had, a similar kind of ugly wallpaper now in burgundy, a doll house that had along since seen better days and took up a surprising amount of floor room, furniture that all looked far older than either of them aside from Toby's bed. There were little touches, of course, that made it obvious that this was a teenager's room, odd posters on the wall, old childhood toys gathering dust on shelves, the computer on his desk with an assortment of papers haphazardly stacked next to it as well as a peculiar velvet lined box, a gaming station sat connected to a little TV with controllers and games scattered around it. All little things that seemed to give Steve a glance into Toby's life.

Toby closed the door most of the way behind Steve, leaving just a crack open, and shrugged off his bag, setting it near his wardrobe before sitting down in his bed. Steve did the same and watched Toby carefully.

"So um," Toby began, obviously not having planned for their "hanging out", he gave a nervous smile, "What, uh, whaddya wanna do?"

"Oh," Steve stared at him, very unsure of what _to_ do, "I, uh, I don't know…"

"Right, um," Toby shook his head briefly, his eyebrows pinching for a moment before he nervously smiled back up at Steve, "We, uh, we could sit and talk," He gestured to the TV, "We could, watch a movie or play some games, or…" His smile began to wane, "Do, homework?"

"A movie, sounds nice," Steve answered.

Yeah, that was good, it seemed like it required the least amount of talking. The way Toby relaxed told him that it was probably the right choice, and he watched as Toby stood up and walked over to the little shelf next to the TV.

"Cool, I've got some movies over here it you'd like to take a look," Steve got up to join Toby and look over the little shelf, "These are most of my favorites, but there's more downstairs if you want."

Steve scanned the selection, most he happened to recognize, the complete series for Gun Robot stood out among them, as well as various other genres and movie types that showed how wide the range of media Toby enjoyed. Steve reached out and selected something he recognized.

"How 'bout this?"

"A classic choice," Toby grinned as he took the movie from Steve's hand and fiddled with the DVD player hooked up to his TV.

He grabbed the remote and made his way back to the bed, taking off his two pillows and placing them on the ground next to the bed so they could sit and lean their backs against his bed. Steve followed suit, watching as Toby fiddled with the remote. For a moment as the opening trailers began to play, Steve became acutely aware that the fanny pack, his heart, was still on Toby's chest, and more so, that warm sensation that came after school every day hadn't happened yet. That was Toby's doing, right? What did he do to make Steve feel like that?

"Hey," Steve said softly, Toby turning towards him curiously as the TV quietly played through the trailers, "After school, um, I, I always feel this warm sensation, uh, from my heart, what, what is that?"

Toby flushed at the question, and Steve wondered if he'd somehow crossed a line but watched as Toby set down the remote to explain.

"So," Toby nervously interlaced his hands and gestured as he spoke, "When, um, when a heart smith is taking care of another's heart, the, the way we heal an abandoned heart, is to, take out our own heart, and place it next to it…" Toby shyly explained, "That's, um, that's the best way to heal an abandoned heart we know of."

"Oh," Was all he could say now understanding the reason for Toby's blush, it was an awfully intimate action, to have hearts touch.

"Yeah, and I should, uh, I have that box there," Toby pointed to the velvet lined box on his desk, "It's called a, uh, a "resting box", it's where the hearts would go to, well, to "rest" and heal. And I should…"

Toby trailed off, and for good reason, as the action suggested he take out his own heart in front of Steve, and risk the possibility of showing Steve his own heart. It was far too intimate for them, having barely just gotten to see each other as "friends". Steve knew he'd given up that right to privacy of his heart once he'd abandoned it for anyone to find and see, but Toby still held that privacy for his own heart.

"I won't look," Steve said, turning his head away and covering his eyes.

"Um, Thanks," Toby mumbled.

The TV stilled played as he listened to Toby shuffle over to the so called "resting box", there was the sound of the fanny pack buckle unclipping and a zipper opening before the more shuffling. Vaguely, Steve could feel it through his heart, being so close now, he could feel the way Toby touched his heart, the way the velvet brushed against its sides, and finally, he felt the warmth of Toby's own heart touching his.

Steve pressed his hand harder into his eyes, pressing away the overwhelming need to cry, it was so different, this time. The feeling of Toby's heart touching his own was so much more intense, so much warmer, so much happier, so much more lovely than before. Was this what it was like, being close to his heart once again? How could he deal with this? How could it feel so nice?

He stifled a gasp and pressed his hand harder into his eyes, desperately willing the tears away, he didn't need to cry, he told himself over and over, he didn't need to cry, certainly not in front of Toby.

"Are you okay?" He heard Toby's soft voice from behind him.

"Yeah, yeah," Steve quickly wiped at his eyes, the feeling still very much there, but he quickly forced himself to adjust and get used to it, "It's just-"

He turned and jerked back, surprised to find Toby suddenly so close to him, a look of obvious concern on his face. Toby jerked back as well in realizing that he was too close.

"Sorry, sorry," He mumbled, bringing his hands up, "A-are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," Steve gave a little nod, he was getting better, his left eye still felt wet, but he wasn't on the verge of tears, "It's just," He looked away briefly, "It's a lot, the feeling of, our hearts."

Toby's eyebrows raised in surprise, before he calmed and nodded in understanding. He adjusted and sat down next to Steve.

"What, what does it feel like?" Toby asked, blatant interest and curiosity on his face as he looked at Steve, though he had a moment of humility and looked away, "That's, um, if you're okay with sharing."

"No, it's okay, it…" Steve tapped his fingers against the ground as he thought of how to explain, "It feels like warmth, and, happiness, and… and love."

He looked away, the word love feeling too strong but, of course, that's what it was, that's what the feeling was, that's what was happening with Toby's heart touching his own.

"Ah," Toby said softly, Steve glanced up to see him lean back against the side of the bed, "Interesting."

"Um, yeah"

"Sorry, for prying. It's just, heart smiths don't know too much about what's going on with the other side of the hearts they're taking care of…" He trailed.

"It's okay. It's just, before, it was kind of, a heavy feeling, of warmth, but, uh, now, now that I'm here, with my heart, I think, now that I'm in the same room with it, it, was so much more intense this time."

"Oh," Toby said, "Is that a bad thing?"

"Yes and no, more just, an overwhelming thing," Steve glanced up at the TV, the opening menu sat there, waiting for them to play the movie, "I can handle it, though, it just takes a moment to adjust. Let's watch the movie."

"Sure, yeah," Toby picked up on his hint to change the subject, flashing Steve a small smile before turning back to the tv and pressing play.

Steve had seen the movie before, and he found himself spacing out in the familiarity, thinking about nothing in particular. He picked up on certain beats he remembered fondly from the movie, but otherwise was only half paying attention, a comfortable silence had slipped over him and Toby as they watched the movie. At some point, a little over the half-way point of the movie, Steve heard a soft knock from the door that sounded like someone was outright pushing open the door more than knocking.

"Hello, little miss," Toby said without looking up.

The odd greeting broke his brief suspicion that Toby's Nana was checking up on them, who referred to their grandmother as "little miss?". Steve then felt a light tickle on his elbow, he turned to see a cute cream-colored cat suddenly next to him, sniffing his elbow, they looked up at him with bright blue eyes.

"That's Pencil," Toby said, Steve turned back to see Toby now looking away from the TV, smiling down at the cat, "Don't worry, she just wants to sniff you and maybe ask for a pet, she's a sweetheart."

Steve turned back to her and offer his hand to sniff, she did and happily rubbed her head against his fingers, he adjusted his hand to better be able to pet her, amazed at how soft her tiny head was.

"She's the nice one," Toby explained, "We've got two other cats, there's Major, he's a grumpy old maine coon who doesn't like people. You'll probably never see him, he mostly stays in my Nana's room, Jim's only seen him like, once or twice before, and then there's Mr. Meow Meow P.I." Steve turned to look at Toby in question, not moving his hand away from the cat eagerly rubbing against it, Toby gave a relaxed smile as he shrugged, "Nana let me name him when I was five," Toby gave a soft snort as if he was laughing at a good memory, "He's a little black cat, he's a little cautious to new comers though."

Steve nodded along with the explanations, utterly enraptured with Pencil as she happily climbed onto his lap after only a few pets, she spun around a couple times before easily settling in his lap, seeming content to be there. Steve let his hands rest on her back and continued running his fingers through her soft fur, it was calming in a way he couldn't describe.

"She likes you," Toby said with a grin.

Steve had a sneaking suspicion she probably like everyone, though it didn't make the fact that she chose to curl up on his lap any less special. She started to purr and Steve felt a smile tugging at the edge of his lips.

"When I was kid, I wanted a dog so badly," Steve said, his eyes lazily lifting from where he watched the cat back onto the TV, vaguely aware that he missed a small chunk of the movie upon Pencil's arrival, but unconcerned, "I begged my parents over and over for one, promising that I'd take care of it, and walk it every day," He tilted his head at the memory, catching out of the corner of his eye how Toby watched him, "They always said no. My dad was certain he'd be the one responsible for it and my mom, my mom always said she didn't want to clean up the fur."

That was what she'd always said, but thinking back on it, the time he started asking for a dog seemed to coincide with the when his dad started getting bad, sometime after his first big blow up where he left them for a whole agonizing week. The first of many disappearances and reappearances, chaotic blow ups that resulted in bruises and messy make ups that made his mother gradually more cautious and weary and Steve more and more desperate for his father's attention. It was possible his mom didn't want a dog getting involved in their mess. And maybe that was why Steve wanted the dog then, he mused as he ran his hands through Pencil's fur, it kept him more grounded at the sour memory than he expected, a dog was something that would stay by his side. A dog was something to take care of and reason to not leave, if his father wouldn't stay for him, maybe he'd stay for a dog?

It was flawed logic, he knew now, but a younger Steve desperately wanted to believe it.

"I wanted a dog when I was younger too," Toby said with a fond smile, Steve looked at him, curious by the sharing, "All of our cats are indoor cats and I wanted something I could go outside and play with. I did the same thing, promising my Nana that I'd take it on walks, that I'd be responsible and take care of it, make sure it didn't have too much trouble with the cats," He shrugged, "But, Mr. Meow Meow and Major don't do well with dogs apparently, so Nana always won out."

Despite the obvious difference in emotional weight to their dog wanting stories -though, Steve supposed, Toby couldn't have known how different it was if he didn't actually explain how- it was nice to share some kind of similarity between them. It was nice, to just sit in Toby's house and talk, he felt, surprisingly safe. Pencil shifted in Steve's lap, rubbing her head against his arm and splaying her legs out to lounge on his lap more, and he'd thought it nice, in that moment, to have a cat.

* * *

Toby wanted to talk more, see if he could learn more about Steve and try to connect, but he still felt very awkward, and he hadn't a clue as to what to actually talk about. There was also, of course, the fact that he was still very on edge in having Steve there in his room, having Steve meet his Nana and see his home. The Steve sitting there next to him was very different than the one he'd come to know over time, but old instincts didn't just suddenly disappear after one or two nice conversations. Even as time trailed on with the movie and nothing happened, as he felt himself relax at the situation, there was still a paranoid old niggling in the back of his head that wouldn't leave.

However, Steve was smiling as he looked down at Pencil happily curled up in his lap, still calmly running his fingers through her fur as she purred away at the attention. Actually smiling.

Despite Steve's slow opening up that afternoon, and the way he obviously hid the feelings that touching their hearts together made him feel, he was still overwhelmingly blank. There was still a lot of healing to be done, a lot of help Steve needed, but that little smile, that small genuine smile, seemed like such a bright flicker of hope to Toby.

He turned back to idly watch the movie, vaguely hearing Pencil's purring along with the music beats and the character conversation. Slowly, the movie bled into its climax and then into it's ending, Toby stared as the ending credits began to flash across the screen before turning to the rolling credits and lazily climbed up pitch blackness. He felt dazed for a moment in coming back to the reality of sitting in his room with Steve, and turned to see how he was doing.

The lazy, half lidded look on Steve's face that imitated Pencil's own was almost amusing, he still had his hands through Pencil's fur, but they'd stopped moving without a conscious effort.

"You good?" Toby asked, and he watched as Steve blinked and brought his attention back to Toby as if mystified that he was there.

"Yeah," He mumbled, shaking his head a little as if to wake himself up.

He looked back to the TV, surprised, as if he hadn't realized it'd reached the end. Toby glanced at his alarm clock as Steve lifted his hand from where it lay on Pencil and reached for one of the pockets on his thighs, there was a little handprint in her fur and she lifted her head as if disgruntled by the sudden loss of heat. It was getting late-ish, his Nana would likely be starting on dinner soon if she hadn't already.

"I should probably head home," Steve said, staring at his phone.

"Yeah," Toby mumbled. He felt like he should be doing more, that they should have somehow made more progress, but this was just the start he had to remind himself, "Thanks for coming over."

Steve nodded, putting away his phone and shifting so that Pencil would get off his lap, she rolled and climbed off his lap with an adorable stretch, Steve smile again as he watched her.

"Thanks for, letting me come over," He said, getting up, Toby followed along to lead him out the house, "I'll uh, I'll see you at school?" Steve asked, tilting his head.

"Well, that depends on you, really," Toby rung his fingers together.

"On me?" Steve tilted his head even further.

"Well," Toby began, fiddling with his fingers more, "I mean, I'm not exactly the most popular kid at school…" That was putting it lightly, as he was most likely one of the least popular kids at school, along with Jim and Eli, and at the very least he and Jim had each other unlike Eli, "You know, it depends on if _you_ want people at school know that we're friends, but well, it would kind of be a drag on your… status?" Which seemed silly, in the moment, as Steve didn't seem to care about anything at all, but it still weighed on Toby's mind.

"Oh, yeah," Steve said as if it hadn't occurred to him until just then, "I'll, uh, think about it."

He said it in such a non-committal way that Toby honestly couldn't tell which way he swayed.

"Cool," Toby put a little thumbs up as some kind of reassurance, though it really was more for himself as a way to seem aloof.

Steve grabbed his bag and Toby lead him to the front door, the back door was currently occupied by his Nana in the kitchen and Toby didn't want to have another embarrassing encounter with her and Steve. Though he could hear how she stopped upon their coming down and shuffled to the hallway to watch them.

"I'll see you, later, then," Steve said as Toby opened the door for him, giving a little nod to him.

"I'll see you later," Toby repeated, returning the little nod.

He watched as Steve walked away and around the house to grab his vespa while closing the door, stopping when he heard the little click and letting out a little sigh.

_That went better than-_

Toby jumped as he was suddenly wrapped up in a hug from his Nana. She cooed and kissed the side of his head as he yelled.

"Nana?! Stars! What on earth are you- Ah!" He scrunched up his face as she moved to kiss him more.

He squirmed to try and get out of her grip but she was unrelenting when she wanted to be.

"Oh, I'm just so proud of you, Toby-Pie!" _Kiss, groan_, "I know you've been worried and had your doubts about all of this," _Kiss, squirm_, "But you persevered, and oh, I just know you're going to have a positive impact on him!"

"Nanaaaaaaa!"

There was another few second of Nana cooing and Toby struggling before she finally let him go. He straightened out his clothes brushed his hand through his hair.

"Thank you, Nana," He grumbled, "But could we maybe do that without all the kissing and the sudden hug? You scared the living daylights out of me."

"No," She said with a smile, reaching out to quickly pinch his cheek, he sighed.

* * *

A/N: This is my longest chapter... It wasn't supposed to be this long… This chapter technically added another chapter to the fic for how long it is… every time I work on a chapter I add more to this fic… so far it's looking like 12 chapters now, but I've been a fool before.


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